


Waking Nightmare

by DanaWPatterson



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2019-12-26 01:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18272609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaWPatterson/pseuds/DanaWPatterson
Summary: His face, his voice, they’d all haunted her dreams for months. When she thought he was dead, he’d been the shadowy figure in every alley and the person who followed her everywhere she went. When she found out that he was, in fact, very much alive, Patterson claimed pity for him. She now knew that wasn’t true. She had no pity for Borden/Thornton. The old fear was still there. She’d just misidentified it as pity.





	1. Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen Season 4, episode 16 you may not want to read this. Spoilers ahead. 
> 
> Also, I'll do a couple of chapters on this (I don't know what they are yet, though). I've tagged all of the characters I think might be relevant. I've made this a Zapatterson/Patata fic but it's not really a fully realized relationship (at this writing anyway).

Patterson sat at her desk with her eyes closed. She rested her forehead in her hands and tried to gain control of her breathing before she hyperventilated. It felt like someone had tied a rope around her skull and was pulling it tighter and tighter. A lead weight filled her stomach. She’d tried to play it cool and be supportive, but Weller’s news hit her harder than even she would have expected. She replayed the scene over and over again in her mind.  

Jane was working with a therapist. That was great. Patterson had told Weller the truth. She wanted Jane back, and if that meant the tattooed woman needed to speak with a therapist, then that was what Patterson wanted for her. What wasn’t great was her choice of therapist.  

Robert Borden. Nigel Thornton.  

His face, his voice, they’d all haunted her dreams for months. When she thought he was dead, he’d been the shadowy figure in every alley and the person who followed her everywhere she went. When she found out that he was, in fact, very much alive, Patterson claimed pity for him. She now knew that wasn’t true. She had no pity for Borden/Thornton. The old fear was still there. She’d just misidentified it as pity.  

Patterson felt sick. For a brief moment she thought she might actually throw up, and she started out of her chair but then the wave of nausea passed. She sat back down and leaned her head on her desk.  

_Borden. Jane is talking to Borden_ , Patterson thought.  _Of all the people in the whole world, Jane chose Borden_.  

For a while she’d been able to forget about him. Hearing his name today and that Jane was sitting in a room with him  _chatting_  was almost too much.  

A picture of Borden bringing her a plate of Agay-Bonjan flashed in her mind followed shortly by another image of him in bed beside her. A shiver ran down Patterson’s spine and she screwed her eyes closed even tighter. He’d made her so happy for such a short time but he’d never been interested in her. She’d been his pawn, a tool so that he could stay close to the Jane Doe case. Another image flashed in her mind but it couldn’t actually be called a flash. It lingered, much like it used to when she closed her eyes at night: Borden’s face looking down at her while she was strapped to a table. She wondered how she could have been so blind and naïve.  

She couldn’t shut her mind down. No matter how hard she squeezed her eyes closed or rubbed her temples, every last memory she had of Borden intruded in a stream of consciousness. He’d slept in her bed and kissed her in the NYO. She’d blown up his cabin, and he’d given her a copy of  _Oregon Trail_. He’d shot her. 

Hard stop.

He’d shot her. Tortured her. Put a bug in her. Tried to kill her. _Twice_. Tasha. Tasha had worked with him. She’d betrayed her. Her very best friend had lied to her and worked with him. She’d _chosen_ to work with him. Now Jane.

Jane chose Borden.  

Patterson raised her head off the desk and leaned back in her chair, letting out a long desperate sigh. She rested her elbows on her desk and steepled her fingers. She said she was okay but she wasn’t okay.  

But she thought she could be.  

*** 

It’d been a while since Tasha had to write a formal field report. She hadn’t exactly been filing paperwork with Keaton while undercover for the CIA. Working on something so dull now was mind-numbing. It didn’t help, of course, that her mind wasn’t focused on the report or the case the team had just closed. All she could think about was the look on Patterson’s face when Weller dropped his news in the middle of SIOC: Jane was talking to Borden.  

Tasha had seen the quick change in Patterson’s expression and, more importantly, she’d heard the almost inaudible crack in her voice when she’d lied and said it was okay. It was a lie. Tasha was completely certain that Patterson was not okay with the latest bit of news. Her first instinct was to go and see Patterson, to talk to her and see if she’s even in the same neighborhood as okay with Weller’s news. That instinct, however, was overruled by the thing that had completely and totally upended their friendship: her own past relationship with Borden and all of the lies she'd told.  

It wasn’t a relationship per say. Tasha would argue that all day long. She was simply doing her job and part of her job involved working with Borden. None of that actually mattered, though. What mattered was that she hadn’t told Patterson until she had no other choice and in doing so, she’d nearly destroyed their friendship. Patterson’s freeze out was one of the hardest things she’d had to endure.  

Now Tasha worried if she went to talk to Patterson about Jane’s new therapist, would it just remind her friend about Tasha’s lies and deception? She didn’t want to upset her more or risk the chance of endangering their friendship again. Then she remembered the look on Patterson’s face when Weller had said “Borden.” Risk to their friendship be damned. Patterson needed someone. She wasn’t okay.  

Tasha shoved her chair away from her new desk and got to her feet. She saved her lack of progress on the field report and locked her screen before heading off towards the lab. 

*** 

Patterson’s back was to Tasha when the Latina reached the lab. She was hunched over her computer but her hands were parked on the sides of her keyboard. Her eyes were glued to the screen.  

Tasha walked up behind her quietly and glanced at the monitors. The contents of Nigel Thornton’s (aka Robert Borden) FBI file was open on her computer and Patterson’s eyes were flicking back and forth from mugshot to FBI ID to the field report from that day he’d blown up the shed and escaped. Tasha stood silently for a moment and just watched Patterson staring at the open file.  

She took a couple of deliberate steps forward, her heels clicking on the floor, and she cleared her throat loudly. Though she’d been watching Patterson for several minutes, she didn’t want to scare her. The scientist looked as if she was lost in thought.  

“Hey,” Tasha said as she approached the side of Patterson’s desk.  

It didn’t matter that she’d made an effort to make some noise, Patterson jumped anyway. Her hand raced to her mouse and she clicked an icon to hide her desktop.  

“Hey,” Patterson said and turned in her chair. “Did you need something?” 

Tasha didn’t respond right away. She looked around for a chair and then grabbed one from a nearby work station. She pulled it up next to Patterson’s desk and sat down, casually crossing her legs as if she were there just to gossip.  

“I just wanted to check on you,” Tasha said, leaning forwards so that only Patterson could hear her. “The whole Borden thing with Jane.” 

“I’m fine,” Patterson replied quickly and looked away. She was lying. She knew it, Tasha knew it, the whole building knew it. “Really.” 

Tasha raised an eyebrow and stared at Patterson for a beat. She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of her pants and tried again.  

“Really? I saw you Patterson,” she said. “I saw your face when Weller said his name. And I saw your screen when I came in.” 

Patterson said nothing.  

“You don’t have to be okay with this,” Tasha continued.  

“I’m okay, Tash,” Patterson insisted.  

Tasha sat back in her chair and fell silent. She stared at Patterson and waited for more. Patterson sighed and sat back in her own chair. She raised her hands up and then let them fall into her lap in disgust. 

“What do you want me to say? That I’m happy Jane is talking to  _him_  of all the people in the entire world she could be talking to? Fine. I’m happy Jane is talking to him.” 

Tasha continued to say nothing. She crossed her arms over her chest and settled further back into her seat. If she sat long enough, Patterson would say everything that she was holding back.  

“Why Borden?” Patterson huffed finally. “There must be five million therapists in New York City alone. Jane picked the one who.... the one who... he broke me, Tash. Fucking Borden. Nigel Creeper Face Thornton. Why did she pick Borden?” 

The blank expression Patterson was wearing broke then and her defenses began to fall down. She didn’t let them down easily and Tasha was the only person she ever felt she could truly let them down around. She didn’t know why. There was just something about her. Her eyes began to fill with tears and she wiped them away aggressively with the back of her hand.  

Tasha got out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Patterson, hugging her tight. She felt the blonde let out a shuddery breath and bury her face into her shoulder. Patterson sniffed loudly and returned Tasha’s hug. She finally pulled out of it with another loud sniff and fumbled in her desk drawer for a tissue to wipe away her tears. Tasha spotted a few lab techs watching them and she fixed them with a glare. She waved an annoyed hand in the air, dismissing them and they hurriedly returned to their work.  

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here,” Tasha suggested when Patterson wiped away the last of her tears. “There’s nothing else that has to get done today. Let’s get a drink. We can drink this day away. What do you think?” 

Patterson shook her head.  

“I don’t really wanna be around people,” she said.  

“Okay,” Tasha agreed quickly. “Get up, go grab your stuff from your locker.” 

Patterson shook her head again.  

“I just said —” 

“I know what you said,” Tasha interrupted in a no-nonsense tone. “Get your jacket. I’ve got wine at my place.” 

*** 

Patterson didn’t have a lot to say as she sat cross-legged on the couch in Tasha’s apartment. Her wine glass was in one hand and she dug the elbow of her other arm into her thigh, resting her chin in her hand. She stared at the wall thoughtfully, taking small sips of red wine. Tasha sat in a chair across from Patterson and silently sipped her own drink.  

“I thought I just wanted him locked up,” Patterson said suddenly, breaking the silence that had filled the room. “I thought that if he went to jail, if I could put him in a box and take away even a little bit of the control he’d taken away from me, I’d feel better about it. He was nothing to me except a broken shell of a man who I wanted to suffer.” 

“But that’s not what you want?” Tasha asked, watching Patterson’s face for the slightest change.  

The blonde took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She turned her wine glass slowly in her hand as she thought about this.  

“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted. “I just... it’s hard. I don’t know what else to say about it. Borden wrecked me. I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten over any of it or if I ever will.” 

Tasha gave a small understanding nod. She didn’t really know what to say to this. Maybe it wasn’t something Patterson needed to get over. She took another sip of her wine and looked down into the red liquid as she tried to think of what to say.  

Patterson was shaking her head slightly as she stared somewhere past Tasha. She took another larger swallow of her wine. It didn’t look like she was focusing on anything but she began talking again, slowly as if she was deep in thought.  

“Robert-  _Borden_ \- he came into my life when I really needed someone. He was understanding and thoughtful and, this sounds stupid now, but loving,” she said. “I was completely shocked when I found him packing his suitcase. I’m  _such_ an idiot.” 

Tears started to fill Patterson’s eyes and she wiped them away angrily. Tasha started out of her chair to go to Patterson but the scientist raised a hand and waved her off.  

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Patterson said, wiping away a tear that rolled down her cheek. “This is just the first time... I’ve never told anyone what happened. I just locked it away and went back to work.” 

Tasha took another sip.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “Any of it?” 

Patterson shook her head and finished her wine. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about how she’d found Borden packing a suitcase and how he’d shot her and tortured her and planted a bug in her. She set her glass down on a coaster on Tasha’s table and the words just started falling out of her as she relayed the whole awful story.  

As she spoke, Tasha refilled Patterson’s glass and listened. They’d become friends again after what she’d come to think of as the Great Freeze Out of 2018 but this was the biggest, heaviest conversation they’d had. She didn’t dare speak, afraid that any sound she might make could break the spell that Patterson seemed to be under as she told Tasha every single detail and every thought she’d had while Borden and Shepherd tortured her.  

“I thought he was going to kill me,” Patterson said as she fought back a yawn. She’d been talking non-stop for close to an hour and Tasha had refilled their glasses twice. Now Patterson tipped her glass back and swallowed the remains of her wine. She yawned again. 

“I’m so sorry, Patterson,” Tasha said. “I never knew.” 

“I never told,” Patterson replied and yawned again. It felt like she’d been awake for days.  

Neither spoke for a long time and Tasha just watched her.  

“Patterson?” Tasha asked quietly when the blonde’s head drooped forward slightly and the grip on her wine glass started to loosen.  

Tasha got out of her chair and went quickly to her friend’s side. She sat on the couch beside her and took the glass from her hand. She set it down on the table. 

“Patterson?” 

There was no response and Tasha realized that she had talked herself to sleep. The sheer emotional exhaustion of reliving the torment Borden had put her through combined with the three glasses of wine had put her to sleep. If Tasha was being truthful, sleep might be the best thing for Patterson right now.  

Tasha carefully arranged Patterson’s body so she was lying on the couch with a throw pillow under her head. Once she was reclined, Patterson seemed to snuggle herself deeper into the couch cushions. She muttered something but Tasha couldn’t make it out. After watching for a moment, Tasha disappeared into the bedroom and returned a minute later with a blanket she’d found on the top shelf of her closet. She covered Patterson, tucking the blanket in around her, and then returned to her chair. She picked up her wine glass and sipped at it while watching Patterson sleep.  

She felt herself starting to fall asleep but a sudden scream jerked her awake.  

Patterson tossed and turned violently on the couch, her head whipping side to side.  

“No! No!” She screamed. “Get offa me! Help!” 

Tasha jumped to her feet and hurried to Patterson’s side. She sat down on the edge of the couch and grabbed her hands as she thrashed about in an effort to still her.  

“Patterson!” Tasha yelled. “Shhhhhh, shhhh. It’s me! It’s Tasha! You’re dreaming. You’re asleep.” 

The blonde’s eyes fluttered slightly but didn’t open. Her body suddenly grew still.  

“Tash,” Patterson whispered sleepily. “Thanks.” 

Tasha let go of Patterson’s hands, and Patterson tucked them under the blankets. She stayed at her friend’s side until she was sure she had fallen asleep again. Quietly, she got up from the couch and went to the front door, checking the lock before flipping the light switch off. Tasha made her way silently around the apartment, flipping lights off until she reached her bedroom. She cast a glance back at Patterson and then slipped inside her room. She closed the door behind her.  

A deep ache filled Tasha’s heart and she felt it thudding heavily in her chest as she leaned against the closed door. As Patterson had spoken about Borden, she’d gone through fits of tears and self-blame but the anger in her voice was the thing that hurt Tasha the most. If she had known how deeply the scars Borden had left behind were, she may have handled her own situation differently when Keaton had brought them face to face. Patterson didn’t deserve any of what had happened to her, and Tasha felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and sickness. She should have been there to keep her safe.  

She fumbled in her pockets for her cell phone and dug it out. She scrolled through her contacts and finally selected one. Tasha listened to the steady ring and smiled when a familiar voice answered. 

“Hi Bill,” Tasha said quietly. “It’s Tasha. I think you need to come to New York. It’s Patterson. She needs you.” 


	2. No One Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’d never thought about Tasha like that before but when the brunette almost kissed her, she found herself completely distracted.

_Why is it so bright_? Patterson wondered as she slowly opened her eyes. Her sleep mask was noticeably absent. Sunlight flooded in around her and her bedroom seemed brighter than it usually was. No, not her bedroom. She must have fallen asleep on the couch. She tried to blink sleep away and rubbed at a sore spot at the small of her back. The smell of coffee hit her nostrils, and she glanced around the room. 

_This isn’t my couch_ , she thought as she sat up and pushed a blanket off herself _. Where am I?_  

Patterson spotted the two wine glasses on the table in front of her and fragments of the previous night started coming back to her. It wasn’t her couch or even her apartment. She’d gone to Tasha’s and they’d spent the night talking about Borden. More accurately, _she’d_ spent the night talking and Tasha had sat and listened. Patterson groaned. She’d talked for hours and Tasha barely said anything at all. Her stomach lurched slightly as she remembered sobbing on Tasha’s shoulder at one point. It’d been something barely intelligible about how she’d been so certain she’d come home one day and find Borden in her apartment waiting for her with Shepherd to finish the job. And Tasha had just let her do it. She felt her cheeks redden.  

There’d been at least two other moments that she cringed over now, loud outbursts where she’d blamed both herself and Borden for what happened. Tasha was the only person she’d ever told the whole messy story to. Not even Dr. Sun had gotten the whole story out of her. It felt good to tell someone but at the same time Patterson felt sick over it.  

Why had she told Tasha everything? Why did she let Borden get to her so badly? She fisted her hands and hit the couch cushions hard in frustration. She’d hoped that after all this time, she’d be able to move on. Instead she was stuck fixated on Borden and everything he’d put her through. And now she’d dragged her best friend into it. Embarrassed wasn’t even strong enough of a word to cover how she was feeling.  

She rubbed her eyes and considered her options. The smell of coffee told her that Tasha was awake and, most likely, in the kitchen. Patterson could try to sneak out without Tasha knowing, but she’d just see her in the NYO in an hour or so. Besides, coffee sounded and smelled amazing right now. She could use a cup or five. It felt much too early to be awake. 

_What time is it_? Patterson wondered. She fumbled in her pockets for her phone and pulled it out. The screen was black. The battery had died overnight, and she couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d charged it.  

“I thought I heard you out here,” Tasha said, popping her head out of the kitchen and giving Patterson a smile. She was already dressed for work and it looked like she’d been awake for hours already. 

“What time is it?” Patterson asked. Her voice cracked and she realized her mouth felt dry and she was thirsty.  

Tasha crossed the room carrying two mugs. She handed one to Patterson before dropping into the chair opposite the couch and taking a long sip of her coffee.  

“6:30,” she said. She gestured at the mug Patterson was holding. “Cream, too much sugar. I think I got it right. If your teeth rot out, it’s right.” 

Patterson took a cautious sip and then a bigger swallow. Tasha had gotten it right.  

“Thanks,” she said and then spotted a bag sitting next to Tasha’s chair. She recognized it immediately as one from her own bedroom closet. “What’s with the bag?” 

Tasha took another swallow of her coffee. She was already working on her second cup after waking up early and running some quick errands.  

“Stopped by your apartment during my run,” she admitted. 

“It was locked,” Patterson interrupted.  

Tasha raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that seemed to say “Who do you think you’re talking to?” 

“I used the spare you hid under the loose door trim,” she said, continuing on before Patterson could say more. “I thought you’d want some clothes and your toothbrush. I packed a bunch of stuff. And there’s stuff in there if you don’t feel like heading to work, too.” 

“I’m going to work,” Patterson said firmly, setting her mug down and stretching for the bag’s handles. Tasha reached down and slid the bag across the floor towards Patterson and watched as the blonde quickly unzipped it and surveyed its contents. She spotted her phone’s charger and pulled it out. “Thanks. My phone died.” 

Tasha gave an indifferent nod. Her mind was elsewhere. She wondered if and when she ought to tell Patterson about the other thing she’d done. Making the call to her father had been just a gut reaction. She almost hadn’t called but when the blonde had screamed herself awake Tasha knew she needed help. The only person should could think of was Bill. So, she’d made the call. Now, Patterson was either going to be angry that Tasha had gotten her father involved without telling her or... well, Tasha wasn’t sure what other response she might get and was a little afraid to find out.  

Patterson leaned over the arm of the couch and stretched and struggled to plug her charger into the nearby outlet. She connected her phone and watched the screen for the telltale charging symbol to appear before returning to the bag. After a moment she stopped rifling through it and looked at Tasha curiously.  

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “If it’s last night and everything I dumped on you, listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t —” 

“No,” Tasha said and gave a short shake of her head. She took another swallow of coffee. “Ok, so you’re either going to hate me or be really happy with me or something else. I’m not sure if I wanna know really.” 

“What?” 

Tasha licked her lips and took the final swallow of her coffee. She fidgeted with the empty mug and then blew out a breath.  

“I, uh, I called your dad last night,” she said quickly. “After your nightmare and you woke up screaming. I called Bill.” 

Patterson let the bag slip out of her hands and fall to the floor. It landed on its side and a small toiletry bag tumbled out. 

“My dad,” she repeated. “You called my dad.” 

“Yeah,” Tasha said. “And, look, before you get all mad at me, I was just worried about you. You were crying and screaming and I worried.” 

“I’m not mad,” Patterson said quietly. She bent to pick up her bag and its spilled contents and set it on the couch beside her. “I sorta wish you’d asked me though.” 

“I’m sorry. I thought you needed someone and I'm happy to help and listen and be here for you but I didn’t know what to do and...” she trailed off and looked back down at her empty mug. “I’m sorry. I worried. I should have asked if you want me to call.” 

Patterson said nothing and drank her coffee for a minute. It was true. She wished Tasha had at least asked her before bringing her dad into what she clearly thought of as a personal issue. At the same time, she couldn’t help but appreciate that Tasha had been so concerned about her that she did the only thing she could think of that would help: called her dad. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he showed up either at the office or at her apartment and she didn’t quite know what she’d say to him. She bit her lip as she played the scenario in her mind. Finally, she shook her head. It was no good worrying about it. He’d come and she’d say  _something_. Patterson finished her coffee and gazed into the bottom of the mug before turning her attention to the bag Tasha had brought her.  

“It’s okay,” she said finally. “I think I’m gonna grab a shower and change. We should probably get to work.” 

Tasha nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  

“Okay.” 

*** 

Tasha stood dumbfounded in the elevator for a minute too long and the doors started to slide closed. She hit the button to reopen them and hurried out. They’d traveled to work in near silence – Patterson had only spoken when they’d stopped for coffee – and then, when the elevator arrived in SIOC, she’d rushed out and headed directly for the lab. Tasha considered following her and then spotted Reade in his office. She turned and headed in his direction. 

“Do you have a minute?” Tasha asked as she pushed inside and sat down in one of the chairs opposite his desk.  

"If it’s about you and me, there’s really nothing to talk about, Zapata,” Reade began, sighing heavily and looking back down at the paperwork in front of him. “I told you the only relationship we can have is a professional one.” 

“No. You and me? What? No,” Tasha blinked. Her relationship with Reade was the furthest thing from her mind. She’d completely let it go. Her one night with him had been just that – one night. Their timing was off. So off, it’d never be right. They made no sense together. Besides, Tasha was interested in someone else. Reade had just been a big mistake. “It’s about Patterson.” 

Reade’s pen stilled and he glanced back up at Tasha. He set the pen down on top of the papers and folded his hands on his desk as he leaned backwards in his chair. Since she’d returned to the FBI from her covert op with the CIA, it’d been a challenge to work with Tasha. He’d told her repeatedly that they were done as friends, but he couldn’t help the feelings that always resurfaced whenever she entered the room.  

“What about her?” 

Tasha’s eyes flicked to the glass walls, and she spotted Patterson talking to one of her techs on the far side of the office. She looked busy, and Tasha thought there was little chance the scientist would wander their way.  

“Jane and Borden? It really hit her hard.” 

Reade shook his head.  

“What are you talking about? She said she was fine with it. If Jane needed to talk to him, then she was fine.” 

Tasha let out an exasperated sigh.  

“She lied. You’ve known Patterson for how long and you can’t tell when she’s lying? She spent the night at my place. She’s not over it and she’s not okay with it,” Tasha confided.  

“What do you mean she spent the night at your place?” 

Tasha threw another look out into SIOC in search of Patterson. She really didn’t want her friend to walk in on a conversation about her.  

“I stopped by the lab yesterday after Weller told us about Jane,” she said. “She was going through his FBI file and crying. Trust me, she’s not okay. She came back to my place to talk about it. We had wine, and she talked. A lot. She fell asleep on my couch and had nightmares about him. She’s really,  _really_  not okay.” 

Reade didn’t reply immediately. He followed Tasha’s gaze out of the office and spotted Patterson leaned over a table, gesturing wildly at something on a screen as she spoke to whoever was within earshot.  

“That’s not great,” Reade said, looking back to Tasha. “What do you want me to do?” 

Tasha shook her head and gave a shrug.  

“I don’t know,” she said. “You can’t force her to take time off or anything and she wouldn’t do it anyway. But I thought you should know. We’re all friends and everything but I don’t think her head is clear. She’s off her game. This whole thing has shaken her big.” 

Tasha’s phone vibrated in her pocket as she spoke and she dug it out. Patterson. Four words: Come to the lab.  

She turned her phone’s screen around to show Reade. 

“I’ve been summoned,” she said and got out of her chair. Reade stood at the same time and glanced at his watch. He hadn’t gotten a text but it was unusual for Patterson to text one team member without the rest. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and shrugged into it as he followed Tasha to the lab.  

Patterson was sitting at her desk when they arrived and she looked up when she heard Tasha’s heels on the floor. Her faint smile faltered when she spotted Reade a half step behind her.  

“Hey,” Tasha said as she approached. “What’s up? Got something?” 

Patterson began moving stacks of folders and notebooks around on her desk as she searched frantically for her phone. She dropped her voice into a harsh whisper. 

“What’s Reade doing here? I texted you,” she hissed as she lifted a pile of papers. “Did I send a group text by mistake?” 

Tasha grabbed Patterson’s phone from the corner of her desk and handed it over.  

“No,” she said. “I was with him. He just followed me. Is everything okay? You look... not great.” 

Patterson tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.  

“Thanks Tash. That wasn’t at all hurtful,” she said. “I just wanted to talk to  _you_.” 

Tasha gave a nod and held up a single finger.  

“Okay. Hang on.” 

She turned away from Patterson and walked past Reade, grabbing his arm as she went. He furrowed his brow and started to protest but followed her the few steps and then stopped. Patterson watched as Tasha said something too quiet for her to overhear. Reade nodded a few times as she spoke. He looked up once and scanned the room and then walked away without even looking back. Tasha watched him walk away and turned back to Patterson.  

“So, what's up?” she asked as she returned to Patterson’s desk. 

*** 

The corridors seemed to stretch on forever. They’d taken so many turns that Tasha wasn’t sure where they were anymore. They hadn’t seen another person in at least four turns. They were definitely still in the NYO but she’d never seen wherever it was Patterson was taking her to.  Finally, after what felt like eternity, the blonde stopped in front of a door and threw her weight against it, forcing the door to slide open to the left. She held the door open and waved Tasha through before letting it slide closed behind them.  

Tasha took a tentative step inside and looked around. The room was full of old gym equipment. A heavy bag hung from a hook in a corner. The fluorescent light flickered on overhead as Patterson entered and flipped a light switch.  

“What is this place?” Tasha asked as Patterson crossed the room and sat down heavily on a weight bench.  

“Oh, it’s an old training room or something,” Patterson replied, looking around the room as if it was her first time seeing it. “Rich showed it to me. We don’t think anyone really knows about it. Except Briana. And Jim.” 

Tasha didn’t reply as she looked around. How did she not know about this place? She wondered if this was where Briana disappeared to throughout the day. The agent always seemed to be missing whenever Tasha was looking for her.  

_Probably comes here to cry_ , Tasha thought.  

“Anyway,” Patterson continued. “This is sketchy. Sorry. I just wanted to talk to you without someone overhearing. And then you showed up with Reade...so I thought maybe the Room of Requirement.” 

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it,” Tasha said as she grabbed a folding chair from a stack leaning against the nearest wall. She opened it and sat down. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” 

Patterson bit her lip for a second and then decided to just dump it all on Tasha. She’d spent an entire night just downloading every last ugly thought she had on her, what was one more thing? Besides, part of this was her fault.  

“My dad called,” she said. “He wants to meet me for lunch so we can talk about your phone call.” 

Tasha shrugged.  

“So?” 

“He doesn’t know.” 

Tasha blinked in surprise.  

“What doesn’t he know?” she asked.  

“Any of it? Patterson said. She looked away with a slightly guilty look on her face. “I never told my parents what happened with Borden.” 

“What?” Tasha nearly yelled. “How do they not know? Jesus, Patterson. I wouldn’t have called him if I knew he didn’t know anything about it. I just assumed he knew. You were in the hospital for god's sake! I thought I was helping!” 

“He knows a little bit,” Patterson said. “He knows that I was attacked by a suspect and my jaw was broken but I didn’t tell him it was Rob- Borden.” 

“Christ, Patterson,” Tasha replied. She studied Patterson for a minute as the blonde turned her attention to her own hands. She was picking at something on her fingers that didn’t seem to exist. “You have to tell him something.” 

“I know, I know. And I will,” she said. “I just don’t really know what. ‘Hey dad, remember a few years ago when I told you I broke my jaw? It was the guy I was dating. He turned out to be a mole for a terrorist group, and he shot me and kidnapped me and then tortured me with help from Jane’s mom. Funny story, right? ANYWAY... I thought he was dead but he wasn’t dead at all and now he and Jane are having chats. I’m having panic attacks and big nightmares.’ Probably not a great conversation.” 

Tasha nodded thoughtfully and crossed her legs. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear while she considered this.  

“I can’t believe you never told him what happened,” she said finally. “This was big. You could have died.” 

“I know! I just... mom and dad worry when I tell them about fieldwork. I’m supposed to be in the lab doing science stuff not out getting shot and tortured. I just didn’t want them to worry,” Patterson said. She sighed. “And then you called my dad and now he’s worried.” 

Tasha scrubbed a hand over her face. She should have fought her gut instinct and left Bill out of this. If Patterson wanted her parents, she knew how to dial a phone. She wasn’t a child. Now Tasha felt guilty about it. It wasn’t her place to make Patterson tell her dad something she had never planned to tell him in the first place.  

“I’m sorry. I should have stayed out of it,” Tasha said quietly and then gave Patterson a hard look. “But you can’t keep this from him.” 

“Well, I can’t  _now_ ,” Patterson said. “I was doing just fine until you called him and now, I don’t know what to say to him. He’ll worry and then be disappointed that I never told him. It’s a big mess now.” 

Tasha shook her head and got out of the folding chair. She kneeled on the floor in front of Patterson.  

“Hey, you scared me last night, P. You might think you’re doing okay but you’re not,” she said. “I know that you don’t want to involve your dad. I get that. I really do. But you need to talk to someone about this. Am I the only person who knows the whole story?” 

Patterson couldn’t meet Tasha’s eyes and she looked down at a gym mat on the floor. She nodded sullenly.  

“Yeah.” 

Tasha rocked back on her heels as she took this in. She paced the room, finally coming to a stop behind the chair she’d vacated. She put both hands on the back of the chair and leaned forward slightly.  

“I’ll come with you,” Tasha said suddenly. “I’ll go to lunch with you and Bill and do whatever I can to make the conversation easier. I’m the one who called, I should go. If I’d known he didn’t know...” 

Patterson brightened at Tasha’s suggestion and looked up from the spot on the floor she’d been staring at.  

“Really? You’d come to lunch with us?” 

“Sure, I like your dad.” 

“I mean, after last night and everything? I dumped a lot on you,” Patterson said.  

“It’s okay,” Tasha said, returning the metal chair to the stack she’d taken it from. “We’re friends. That’s what we do for each other. Plus I’m a big fan of free lunch.” 

*** 

Forlini’s was just a few blocks from the NYO, and Tasha convinced Patterson that walking there would be better than taking a car or calling for an Uber. It would help clear her head and give her a chance to think. Now, standing outside of the restaurant, Patterson wished it had been farther away. She needed more time. She wasn’t ready to tell her father what had happened and to drudge up the past again. She desperately did not want to fall apart in a public place like she had in Tasha’s apartment. The only saving grace was that her father was nowhere to be seen. He texted five minutes earlier and was already inside with a table.  

Patterson took a deep breath and subconsciously grabbed for Tasha’s hand. She couldn't help but feel incredibly nervous. Tasha gave her hand a light squeeze.  

“You’ve got this,” Tasha said quietly. “Ready to go in?” 

Patterson nodded slightly and reluctantly let go of Tasha’s hand. There was something oddly comforting and reassuring about holding onto it. The moment she’d taken it, she’d relaxed. Now, the anxiety started to creep back.  

“It’s okay,” Tasha whispered as she held the door open so Patterson could enter.  

The blonde scanned the room, waving off the host who was getting ready to grab two menus and show the new arrivals to a booth. She spotted her dad sitting in a plush red booth near the back of the restaurant. Two wooden chairs sat vacant across the table from him. Patterson pasted on a smile and headed towards the table.  

Bill saw them coming and got quickly to his feet, sliding out of the booth and coming around to the chair side of the table. He offered them a broad smile and then wrapped Patterson in a big hug.  

“W-Patterson!” Bill beamed, correcting himself before he could use her first name and suffer his daughter’s wrath. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”  

He planted a kiss on the top of her head before ending the hug. Bill’s eyes flashed over to Tasha and his grin broadened.  

“And Tasha! I had no idea you were joining us!” He pulled her into an equally large hug. “It’s always nice to see you.” 

“Hi Bill,” Tasha replied. “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry if I worried you.” 

Bill ended the hug and pulled out both of the chairs for the two women. He waited for them to sit before sliding back around into the booth.  

“Nonsense,” he said, as she sat back down. “I’m glad you called me. I don’t get to see my two girls that often and any excuse is good enough for me. Besides, how often does an old man like me get to take two beautiful women to lunch?” 

“Dad,” Patterson warned.  

Bill shrugged and raised a hand to get the attention of a waiter.  

“What? It’s true!” he said. “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered us a bottle. An Abruzzo. The waiter said it was terrific.” 

“Dad, we have to go back to work after this,” Patterson objected but quieted when Tasha put her hand on top of hers.  

“It’s just a glass of wine,” she said as the waiter slid a glass in front of her. “It’ll be fine.” 

The trio sat in silence as the waiter distributed three menus and poured them each a glass of wine. Patterson opened her menu and made herself busy. Selecting lunch was a good way to delay the inevitable. Her father had seemed happy to see them both but she knew it would only be a matter of time before he cut to the chase. Tasha had called him and said she was worried. He was worried too even if the big smile on his face said otherwise.  

They spent several moments going over the menu, chatting about different dishes, and then placing their orders. When the waiter was gone again and the menus were taken away, Bill steepled his fingers and leaned on the table top. He looked from Patterson to Tasha and back to Patterson.  

“So, Tasha called me last night,” he said. “And I love seeing her name on my caller ID almost as much as I love joining you girls for lunch but she said you needed me. So, tell me, what’s wrong?” 

Patterson gave Tasha a look from the corner of her eye and then grabbed for her wine glass. She took a small swallow as she gathered her thoughts. She had no idea how she’d even bring the subject up. When Patterson didn’t respond right away, Tasha cleared her throat and started.  

“Patterson doesn’t want to worry you,” she said, sipping from her own glass. “But she’s had a small anxiety attack.” 

“An anxiety attack?” Bill asked. Concern creased his brow as he leaned forward and patted Patterson on the hand. “Is everything okay? Did you do those tricks you learned in high school?” 

Patterson nodded non-committally.  

“Yeah, everything’s okay,” she lied. “There’s been a lot going on at work and —” 

“Patterson,” Tasha interrupted sharply.  

Bill flicked his eyes from Tasha to Patterson and back to Tasha. When Patterson didn’t say more, he raised an eyebrow. 

“Would one of you tell me what’s going on?” he asked.  

Tasha looked back to Patterson and waited for her friend to start talking. Instead Patterson looked down at the table.  

“Okay,” Tasha breathed. “Remember a few years ago when Patterson broke her jaw?”  

Bill nodded.  

“She was out doing fieldwork when it happened,” Tasha fibbed. “She didn’t want to tell you because she knows how you feel about her out in the field.” 

“Her mother and I worry,” Bill agreed.  

Tasha nodded and gave Bill a small smile.  

“I do, too,” she said. “The guy who did it, worked at the FBI. He was a mole for a group we were watching.” She saw the shock on Bill’s face and continued on quickly before he could ask any questions. “He was her boyfriend.” 

“David?” Bill asked. The shock had migrated from his face to his voice. “You’re kidding! He seemed like such a nice young man. But I thought he made crossword puzzles. He worked for the FBI? And he was a mole!" 

Patterson shook her head and looked up to meet her father’s eyes.  

“No,” she said. “It was Robert.” 

Bill took a sip of his wine and leaned away from the table as the waiter returned carrying plates of pasta. He set a dish down in front of each of them. Bill picked up his fork and set it back down again. He suddenly wasn’t feeling very hungry.  

“Robert,” he repeated. “The therapist?” 

Tasha and Patterson both nodded.  

“Is he the one who died in an explosion?” he asked, picking his fork up again. He started twirling long strands of pasta around the tines.  

Patterson glanced at Tasha again and the brunette gave her an encouraging nod.  

“I thought he died,” Patterson said. She looked down at her plate of food and pushed it aside slightly. She needed to get the story out without the distraction of what smelled like an amazing meal. “He escaped but we captured him and he’s in jail now.” 

Bill let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a forkful of food. He chewed thoughtfully.  

“That’s good,” he said. “The FBI always gets its man.” 

Patterson snorted and reconsidered her plate. She moved it back in front of her and picked up her fork.  

“That’s the Mounties, Dad,” she said.  

“Are you sure?” Bill asked. “It sounds like you guys.” 

“I’m sure,” Patterson said.  

Bill took a few more bites of food and then looked back up at the two women. There was clearly more to the story that they weren’t telling him. He waited expectantly.  

“And?” he prompted. “I know there’s more to it than that. Tasha sounded very upset when she called me. What is it?” 

Patterson exchanged anther look with Tasha and took a deep breath. She swallowed down the rest of her wine and launched into the entire gruesome story. Bill sat silently and listened while Patterson recounted the entire story that, up until the previous night, she’d never told anyone. When she got to the part where she found out Borden was still alive, Patterson felt herself starting to fall apart. She abruptly stopped talking and pushed her chair away from the table noisily.  

“I need to use the bathroom,” she lied and quickly got up, hurrying off towards the restroom. 

Tasha watched as Patterson disappeared and then turned her gaze back to Bill who was now watching her closely.  

“I should go check on her,” Tasha said. She folded her napkin and placed it back on the table before heading off towards the bathroom.  

She stood outside the wooden door to the bathroom and listened. She thought she heard quiet sobs coming from inside. Tasha hesitated for a moment and then turned the knob and went in. 

Patterson stood in front of the row of sinks, her hands clenched on the counter, tears streaming down her face.  

“What is wrong with me, Tash?” Patterson sobbed when she saw Tasha watching her in the mirror. “I can’t even tell my dad what happened without falling apart.” 

Tasha put a hand on Patterson’s shoulder and spun her around gently so they were facing each other.  

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” she said, grabbing a paper towel from a nearby dispenser. She handed it to Patterson so the blonde could wipe her eyes. “You bottled all of this up and now it’s hard to talk about. It’s okay, though. Your dad wants to help.” 

Patterson dabbed at her eyes with the paper towel and then wadded it up in her hand. She looked at the concern on Tasha’s face and felt another wave of tears threatening to fall. Tasha must have sensed the new tears because she took a step towards her and pulled her into a tight hug. Patterson returned the hug immediately, burrying her face into the crook of Tasha’s neck. She held onto her tightly for several moments until she suddenly felt the tension in her muscles start to drain away.  

“I’m so sorry, Tash,” Patterson whispered. “I dragged you into this and I keep falling apart on you. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Tasha said. She hugged her a bit tighter before releasing her grip. She placed a kiss on Patterson’s forehead and then her cheek without thinking. She started to move to her lips when she realized what she’d done, and she pulled away quickly. She felt herself blush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Are you okay?” 

Patterson didn’t respond immediately. She was staring at Tasha’s lips. She’d never thought about Tasha like that before but when the brunette almost kissed her, she found herself completely distracted. All the worries she’d been holding onto about telling her father the story and once again recounting the trauma seemed to disappear. Then she snapped out of it. She shook her head. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m okay. Thanks for checking on me.” 

Tasha smiled.  

“Of course. You think you’re ready to finish your story for your dad?” she asked, tossing a look over her shoulder to the bathroom door. “He’s worried about you. We both are.” 

Patterson bit her lip and turned back to check her appearance in the mirror. She expected to find her eye makeup a big smeary mess, but she looked ok, red eyes aside.  

“Okay,” she breathed. “Yeah, Let’s go.” 


	3. In Her Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I close my eyes, and it starts all over again."

Bill was sitting at the table sipping his wine when Patterson and Tasha returned. He looked at Patterson with concern in his eyes and watched as she sat back down and picked her fork up once again.  

“Is everything okay, kiddo?” Bill asked, noticing his daughter’s red eyes.  

Patterson pushed the remains of her lunch around on her plate.  

“Yeah,” she said, not looking up. “It’s a hard story to tell. I’ve tried to forget about it and move on, but I’m not doing such a good job with that lately.” 

Bill nodded thoughtfully and set his glass back down. He glanced at Tasha to confirm if everything was, in fact, okay, and she gave him a small nod.  

“You’re just like your mother. A typical Patterson,” Bill said, smiling. “Internalizing everything and never letting anyone know that you might not be an actual robot.” 

“What?” Patterson retorted. “That is so not true! That’s you!” 

Bill shook his head. “No, opposite, opposite,” he replied. He turned his attention back to Tasha. “Thank you for making her talk.” 

Tasha smiled faintly but shook her head.  

“No one makes Patterson do anything she doesn’t want to,” she said.  

“Typical,” Bill repeated. He gave Patterson a knowing look as the waiter reappeared at the table and began collecting their empty dishes.  

The trio fell into silence once again while the table was cleared before ordering coffees. Bill tried to pressure them into dessert but both women declined, claiming they were stuffed from the generous mounds of pasta they’d just eaten. Before Patterson had the chance to continue her story, the waiter was back, setting mugs of hot coffee down in front of them.  

“So,” Patterson began slowly, drawing the word out. She dumped a final packet of sugar into her coffee and used a spoon to give it a stir. She took a sip. “Yeah, Robert’s alive. He didn’t die. The CIA found him. They put him to work.” 

Tasha shook her head and touched Patterson’s arm lightly.  

“Patterson, you don’t have to,” she said.  

“It’s okay, Tash, I need to. I’m mostly over it,” Patterson assured her.  

She took a deep breath. This was her least favorite part of the story. Gunshot wounds and torture were one thing. Her body had healed, and she was left with just some small scars and what she thought might be some form of PTSD, but Tasha’s betrayal had left a different kind of mark. Her very best friend had lied to her so convincingly for so long. Tasha’s decision to work with Borden in secret was like being gut shot. They’d made up and Patterson had forgiven her, but sometimes being around her and remembering what she’d done was painful. She held Tasha’s eyes as she spoke again. 

“Tasha was assigned as his handler.” 

For the next 10 minutes, Patterson recounted how she’d found out what happened and her fallout with Tasha. Bill’s eyes flickered as he started to put the pieces together. This was the argument that had divided them the last time he visited. They seemed better than fine now. He’d actually been wondering if maybe they were a couple. It was something in the way Tasha looked at Patterson and the way she’d put her hand on hers. Bill was hopeful that his daughter had found someone who would love her and protect her the way he thought she deserved.  

“We sent him to jail,” Tasha told Bill as Patterson took a sip of her coffee. “The CIA did. We burned his deal, and he’s in prison now.” 

Bill nodded but said nothing. He turned his attention back to Patterson. When she didn’t say anything, he cleared his throat and set his coffee back down.  

“I thought you said he was helping Jane?” he asked gently.  

It was Patterson’s turn to nod, and she took another swallow of her coffee.  

“He is,” she said. “Jane has her memory back.  _All_  of her memories. She’s had a hard time dealing with everything she did as Remi with who she is as Jane. He’s the only person left she can talk to that might understand.”  

Bill gave another thoughtful nod.  

“So, he’s still in jail?” 

“Yeah.” 

“But another of your friends is working with him,” Bill said.  

“Yeah.” 

Bill didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell his daughter that just because Tasha and Jane chose to work with the man who had caused her so much physical and emotional pain, they hadn’t chosen him over her. She wasn’t even part of the equation. They had simply made a decision that would benefit them. For Tasha, it was her job. For Jane, it was a chance to come to terms with her own inner struggles. If his wife had been there, she would have been able to say this. If he said it, Patterson was likely to argue with him. Instead, he caught the eye of the passing waiter and gestured for the bill.  

A few moments later the waiter returned and slid the check onto the table. Tasha tried to grab for it but Bill snatched it away while simultaneously pulling his wallet from the pocket of his suit jacket. He waved Tasha’s reaching hand away.  

“No, don’t be silly, Tasha,” Bill said. “A gentleman always pays when in the company of such beautiful ladies.” 

He fished a credit card from his wallet and set it on the table so the waiter could scoop it up when he next passed the table.  

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Patterson asked finally. Her father’s silence was unnerving.  

“What do you want me to say?” Bill asked, surprised by Patterson’s sudden question.  

“I don’t know. Something. Anything.” 

Bill sighed and removed the napkin from his lap. He folded it carefully and set in on the table beside his empty coffee mug.  

“Hmmm,” he began and drummed his fingers lightly on the tabletop as he carefully chose his words. “I think I wish you’d told us about this sooner. I understand why you didn’t. You’re stubborn.” 

“I am not!” 

Bill looked at Tasha pleadingly.  

“Tasha? Is she stubborn?” 

Tasha nodded and tried to hide a smile.  

“The most stubborn person I know,” she agreed.  

“Whatever,” Patterson groaned. “I’m not that stubborn. I just like... whatever. I’m not stubborn.” 

Bill raised a hand slightly off the table in a sign of surrender.  

“I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t have internalized so much of this,” he said cautiously. “Now, don’t get upset with me, but Jane didn’t choose Robert over you.” 

“What?!” Patterson nearly yelled. “How can you —” 

“Let me finish, kiddo,” Bill said patiently. “No one can take away how you feel about Robert. He did horrible things, and you’re so strong for dealing with it for so long. But you have to remember that Jane needed to talk to someone. The same way  _you_  needed to talk to someone. You reached out to Tasha because she understands you and what you’ve gone through. She’s your friend, and she’s there for you and she cares a lot about you. But Jane chose Robert because he knew her before. She didn’t choose him because they’re friends. He could tell her things about herself that she doesn’t know or can’t understand.” 

Patterson nodded.  

“It still hurts,” she said.  

“Of course it does!” Bill said. He sighed. “Think of it like a science. Jane knows herself and she has all these memories from her past life and her current life She has you guys. Her friends. But you only know her current life and what you’ve uncovered about her past life. She can’t test her past life based on third-hand knowledge and her own uncorroborated memories. Robert is her control group. He can corroborate her memories and fill in the gaps that you can’t possibly.” 

Patterson frowned. She hadn’t considered any of that. It made sense, though. It didn’t resolve any of her own feelings towards Borden, and she was unsure if simply talking it out with Tasha and her dad would put a stop to her nightmares, but she’d gained some degree of perspective.  

As if Bill read her thoughts, he reached across the table and patted her hand affectionately.  

“I’m worried about you, kiddo,” he said. “Whatever is happening with Jane and Robert, forget about it. You need to take care of yourself. I’ve never seen you so closed off or emotional about anything. Maybe take some time off work?” 

“No,” Patterson replied sharply. “I don’t need time off work. I need to move on.” 

*** 

Patterson made her way through her apartment and double checked each of her door locks before circling back and checking all of her windows. After meeting with her dad, she’d gone back to the office only to be utterly distracted by the millions of thoughts swirling around in her head. She finally pulled the plug after four painfully slow hours and went home. It was still early but the only thing Patterson wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep.  

She changed quickly into pajamas and grabbed the eye mask waiting for her on the side table. Turning back the covers, she crawled into bed, pulling the mask down over her eyes as she went. Patterson shifted restlessly beneath her comforter as she searched for a comfortable position. Finally, she settled.  

*** 

The room seemed smoky. It didn’t smell like smoke but there was a definite cloud-like film in the air. In fact, the strong scent of fried eggs and tomatoes filled the air. Patterson squinted through the haze. She could barely see through it.  

“If my math is correct, I believe this our ‘tenth time sleeping over anniversary, which as everyone knows, is the Agay-Bonjan breakfast anniversary,” a familiar voice echoed around her.  

She whipped her head around, looking for the source of the voice but she saw nothing. Looking down she realized she was propped up in bed, a mysterious plate of eggs in her hands. She was alone.  

The room seemed to swirl around her and the haze thickened. Patterson felt herself start to slide out of the bed, and she reached out to steady herself. She was back on her feet and her hand came to rest upon a partially open door, and she pushed it open. The scene looked familiar. 

“Hey, I tried calling you like ten ti—,” she began. Then her voice grew cold as she spotted the ring. “What is that?”  

“Uh, nothing. What's wrong? My phone's been acting up.” 

The room went dark then and the only thing she could hear was her own breathing. Words echoed around her. They seemed to bounce off invisible walls and ring in her ears. A gunshot broke through the noise and she ducked, throwing her hands over her head as her eyes searched for a shooter. 

“Please, you have to believe me. This isn't what I wanted.” 

And it faded away. Dark turned to light again and Patterson peered through a layer of grime. She had no idea where she was. It looked industrial like a warehouse, but nothing seemed familiar. Screams filled the air, and Patterson reached for her gun in the holster at the small of her back. Her hand closed on nothing and she realized it was missing. The scream came again, this time more loudly, and Patterson looked around frantically for its source. Her heart was pounding and her palms were slick with sweat. She couldn’t see anything, but the screams continued to ring out, swallowing her as the darkness descended over her again.  

Patterson opened her eyes a moment later and shoved her eye mask back off her face. Her heart was pounding in her throat, and she was disoriented. The smoke and the screams and Borden. He’d been there. She’d spoken with him; heard his voice. Her skin crawled at the memory. She ran a hand over her face as if she could simply wipe away the nightmare and shifted slightly beneath her twisted sheets.  

Familiar hands grasped her hips and pulled her closer. Warm breath filled her ear as the person in bed with her nuzzled into her neck, kissing the exposed skin. Patterson’s mind raced. She couldn’t remember calling anyone to come over let alone inviting someone into her bed. If she’d called anyone, it would have been Tasha. Those hands didn’t belong to her.  

“I know this hard and impossible to understand,” her bed companion whispered huskily. “But everything I have done has been for my late wife.” 

Patterson froze. The voice was the same one from her dream. It was the same one that haunted her. She tried to pull out of Borden’s grasp but she was paralyzed, unable to move. She felt Borden move behind her, pushing himself more firmly against her backside.  

“Please, tell her what you know. For your own sake,” he said. He breathed into her ear and a shiver ran down Patterson’s spine. “You won’t feel anything. I promise.” 

She tried to struggle to get away from him but Borden’s grip tightened. Her legs wouldn’t move, and her brain screamed at her to get away, to fight. 

“She won’t feel anything,” Borden continued calmly, whispering into Patterson’s ear. “I’ll begin with a saline drip to ensure that Tasha’s IV is working properly. Next I’ll administer propofol, which will render her unconscious.” 

Patterson screamed and found her legs. She kicked out hard and came into contact with nothing. She rolled over in the bed to face Borden but the space beside her was empty. Without looking away, she groped for the gun she’d left on her side table. She leveled it and aimed around the room wildly. Her pulse raced and then the realization hit her: it’d been a dream. 

She took several deep breaths and set the gun down on the comforter between her outstretched legs. She felt tears start to well up again and this time she let them come. Patterson sobbed loudly in bed for a moment before pulling herself together with a sniff. She swung her legs out and onto the floor and padded into the kitchen for a glass of water, her eye mask falling to the floor beside the bed.  

As she leaned against the kitchen counter drinking, Patterson tried to slow her heart rate. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She could hear it thudding loudly in her ears and noticed her skin was covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat. Patterson swallowed hard and refilled her glass. Her cell phone blinked from its place on its charger and she hurried over to it. Without thinking she tapped a contact and listened to the steady ring.  

“Tasha? I need you. Can you come over?” 

*** 

Patterson answered the door before Tasha could complete her second knock. After calling her in a fit of panic, she noticed the time. 1:30 a.m. She’d almost called her back and told her not to come, but Patterson needed Tasha more than anyone else. While she waited for her to arrive, Patterson paced from room to room. She couldn’t sit still. When Tasha knocked, she nearly ran to the door. She threw it open and wrapped her friend in the biggest hug.  

“I’m so sorry,” Patterson whispered into her shoulder. She broke the hug and took a step backwards into the living room so Tasha could enter. The Latina looked half-awake but Patterson spotted the gun holstered to her hip. She hadn’t told Tasha what was happening and it looked like her friend had come prepared for any situation. “I didn’t realize how late it was when I called.” 

Tasha stepped inside and looked around. Her right hand went to the butt of her gun. Every light was on inside of Patterson’s one-bedroom apartment. She shook her head solemnly.  

“It’s okay,” she said. “You scared the hell out of me. Is everything okay? What’s happening?” 

Patterson looked down at the floor. She was so embarrassed. She’d called Tasha in the middle of the night to come, what? Hold her hand because she had a bad dream? She felt like a stupid child. 

“I’m sorry,” Patterson repeated. “I had a nightmare. It seemed so real. I didn’t know what to do. I called you out of instinct. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Tasha let go of her gun but took an investigatory step towards the kitchen and then headed into the bedroom. They were alone. Patterson had called because she’d had a nightmare. If she hadn’t been so tired, Tasha would have been flattered and charmed. Patterson was in distress and the first person she thought to call was her. Tasha’s heart fluttered in her chest as she returned to the living room. She sat down on Patterson’s couch, crossed her legs, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She patted the cushion next to her and beckoned the blonde to sit down beside her.  

“Tell me what happened?” she said softly.  

Patterson hesitated. The dream had seemed so real but now, with all the lights on and Tasha sitting beside her, it seemed ridiculous. It had been nothing but a bad dream. She closed her eyes and reflected on it. She slowly recounted the dream for Tasha. 

“It was him” she said. “Borden. He was here. He was saying all of the things he said to me that day but he was talking about you. He was gonna kill you.” 

Tasha didn’t reply immediately. She was no good at interpreting dreams but she knew that this dream just meant that Patterson clearly wasn’t as okay as she kept telling everyone she was.  

“I close my eyes, and it starts all over again,” Patterson said when Tasha didn’t respond. She felt tears prick her eyes again and she blinked them away. She'd cried too much in front of Tasha the last few days.  

“It’s just a dream,” Tasha replied as she tried to swallow a yawn. She’d only fallen asleep an hour earlier, staying up much too late to watch the end of the Lakers-Clippers game. “Borden is in jail. Jane visited him there. He’s not getting out. Ever.” 

“I  _know_ ,” Patterson said in exasperation. “Rationally, I know he’s in jail. He’s not getting out. He’s not coming to get me. I know this. But he’s still there when I close my eyes. Once I was awake and the lights were on, it made sense. It’s just a dream. A nightmare. As soon as the lights go out and I close my eyes...” 

Tasha frowned. She understood. At the same time, she heard her own words: It’s just a dream. They were eerily similar to the ones she’d said when visiting Patterson in the hospital. Then, Patterson had said Borden was in her dream. Tasha had lied to her in an effort to reassure her. Now, she meant it but the sense of déjà vu was strong.  

“You should try to get back to sleep,” Tasha said. She fought another yawn. “If you don’t try to sleep, you won’t be able to work. And you love work.” 

Patterson considered this for a moment. Tasha was right. She needed some sleep. She hadn’t been able to get much since Weller told them Jane was talking to Borden. She was just a few hours of sleep short of setting her lab on fire or blowing up the entire NYO. But the threat of Borden in her dreams was too much.  

“Try,” Tasha encouraged. “Come on.” 

She got up off the couch and reached a hand down for Patterson. The scientist took it warily and let Tasha help her stand back up. She followed dumbly as her friend led the way to her bedroom. When they approached the disheveled side of the bed, Tasha let go of Patterson’s hand. She put both of her hands on her shoulders and forced her to sit on the edge of the bed. Patterson took the cue and laid down and pulled the sheet and comforter over herself. She stared up at the ceiling as Tasha picked up the eye mask from where it had fallen. She offered it to Patterson who shook her head. 

“No,” Patterson said. “I wanna be able to see.” 

Tasha put a finger on the light switch and started to back out of the room. She’d sleep on the couch and catch at least a few hours of sleep before she needed to go home to get ready for work.  

“No,” Patterson said suddenly. “Please, don’t leave.” 

“I’m just gonna go to the living room. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Tasha explained. “I’ll be right out there if you need me.” 

Patterson sat up in her bed and kicked the covers away. She crossed the room quickly, a deep frown on her face. She grabbed Tasha’s arm and tugged her away from the doorframe. 

“Please, Tasha,” she begged. “Stay. You can sleep on the other side of the bed. It’s a big bed. I don’t kick or snore or anything. Please. Stay with me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep.” 

Tasha looked at the still-made side of the bed and then back at Patterson. The tears were back in her eyes. It pained Tasha to see her struggling so much. Of all the people she knew, Tasha admired Patterson for her toughness and resilience, her intelligence, sense of humor, compassion, and work ethic. The fact that she was the most beautiful woman she knew was secondary. She’d do absolutely anything to help Patterson, to make her smile, and reassure her that everything would be alright.  

She nodded.  

“Okay,” Tasha said. “I’ll stay. If that’s what you need, I’ll stay.” 

“Thank you,” Patterson said. She wrapped her arms around Tasha and gave her another hug. She was growing to love hugging her. It felt so warm and comforting. So right. Tasha made her feel safe. “Do you need something to sleep in? You could borrow something?” 

Tasha’s hands went to the buttons of her jacket. She had been reluctant to take it off earlier. When Patterson had called, she’d been asleep. She’d clipped on her gun, thrown on a jacket, grabbed her keys, and dashed out the door. Now, Tasha took off her jacket revealing the worn-out t-shirt she had on underneath. It became obvious that the pants she had on weren’t her dress slacks – they were just black yoga pants.  

“I was asleep when you called,” Tasha said. She gestured at her pajamas. “I just threw on a coat and came over.” 

Patterson hugged Tasha again.  

“I’m so sorry I woke you up,” she said. “But thank you. Thank you for coming.” 

“Anytime,” Tasha replied. She unclipped her holster and held it up. “Do you have a gun safe or something? Where can I leave this?” 

Patterson reached out and took the gun from her. She pulled open the drawer of her nightstand and set both of their weapons inside.  

“Do you need anything?” Patterson asked. “Water?” 

Tasha shook her head.  

“I’m good.” 

Patterson nodded and looked at the bed again. She climbed back in beneath the covers, pulling them up towards her chin. She watched as Tasha pulled back the blankets on the other side of the bed and cautiously got in, leaving at least a foot of space between them.  

Tasha lay quietly on her back, listening as the blonde shifted around restlessly. Finally, Patterson let out a deep sigh and the room went silent. When she was certain she was asleep, Tasha shifted onto her side and studied her. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep but her mind wouldn’t shut down. It was racing. Patterson had called in the middle of the night because she’d had a nightmare. She needed to talk to someone – a professional. Tasha was happy to let Patterson talk and tell her whatever she needed to but there was only so much she could do. She worried that Patterson had been repressing some form of PTSD. It would almost be expected after everything she’d gone through. 

While her mind played through Patterson’s behavior and her reaction to Borden once again appearing in their lives, she felt the bed bounce as Patterson’s legs began to kick. The blonde woman started shifting violently in her sleep as her breathing became ragged.  

Tasha sat up abruptly and squinted into the darkness. She saw Patterson ball her hands into fists and grab handfuls of the comforter. She squeezed so tight Tasha could see the knuckles turning white even in the darkness. Tasha laid back down and scooted her body as close as possible to Patterson. She wrapped her arms around her. 

“Patterson,” she whispered as she hugged her tighter. “Stop. Cariño, stop. You’re dreaming again.”  

Tasha pressed her body tight against Patterson’s until she stopped moving again. She felt the other woman’s heart racing in her chest and felt her take a deep heaving breath. After several long moments, she felt Patterson’s heart begin to return to its normal rhythm.  

Patterson seemed to snuggle deeper into Tasha’s embrace, her back pressed against Tasha’s chest. She let out another deep sigh but this one seemed to be one of contentment. The tension in her muscles drained out of her body, and she went limp.  

Tasha tried to free her arms but Patterson was holding her in place. There was no sense fighting it. If she wanted any sleep at all, she’d have to do so with Patterson in her arms. She shifted around on the bed slightly, trying to get comfortable. She placed a kiss on the top of Patterson’s head and closed her eyes.  

“Good night, Chiquita,” she whispered into the darkness. “I’ve got you." 


	4. Just Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tasha’s arm was somewhere in the land between numbness and pain. Patterson was right: she didn’t toss and turn or kick in her sleep. In fact, the blonde didn’t move at all. She’d pinned Tasha’s arms in place all night, grabbing onto her forearms and hugging her close. Tasha craned her neck to glance at the watch still on her wrist. It was just before 6 a.m. She’d laid like that for nearly four hours, and she desperately needed to free herself if only to get circulation back in her arms. As she contemplated ways to extract herself from the Patterson death grip she found herself in, Tasha caught a glimpse of her friend’s face. For the first time in days, Patterson looked peaceful.

Tasha’s arm was somewhere in the land between numbness and pain. Patterson was right: she didn’t toss and turn or kick in her sleep. In fact, the blonde didn’t move at all. Sleeping next to Patterson was like sleeping next to a rock. She’d pinned Tasha’s arms in place all night, grabbing onto her forearms and hugging her close. Tasha craned her neck to glance at the watch still on her wrist. It was just before 6 a.m. She’d laid like that for nearly four hours, and she desperately needed to free herself if only to get circulation back in her arms.  

As she contemplated ways to extract herself from the Patterson death grip she found herself in, Tasha caught a glimpse of her friend’s face. For the first time in days, Patterson looked peaceful. Her face was slack and she seemed relaxed. It was almost as if she hadn’t been drowning in panic attacks and nightmares for the last few days and hadn’t called her best friend at 1:30 in the morning in a blind panic.  

_So, this is what it’s like to wake up next to Patterson_ , she thought idly as she shifted slightly beside the other woman. She felt warmth begin to spread through her chest. It was kind of nice. Definitely something she could get used to even if she couldn’t feel her arm. 

Tasha began to settle back into the mattress, deciding that Patterson could hold her down whenever she wanted to, when the reality of the situation set back in: She’d spent the last few hours spooning her best friend. That was Patterson’s ass pressing into her, and Tasha tried to shift away as she realized with growing horror that her breasts were pressed into her friend’s back and her nipples were hard.  

She took a quick inventory of herself and realized it wasn’t just her nipples reacting to Patterson’s closeness. There was a definite wet heat gathering between her legs and the hair on her arms and back of her neck were standing on end.  

_I have to free my arm_ , Tasha thought, panic rising as she realized the extent of her arousal. Patterson was her best friend and she’d had a crush on her for a while, but she’d never act on it. Ruin the friendship? No way. Patterson meant too much to her to take that kind of risk. She’d only just gotten the scientist back into her life, there was no way she was willing to gamble her away based on hormones and lust. 

Patterson shifted slightly in her sleep, further pinning Tasha to the mattress and pressing her back more solidly into her friend’s chest. She seemed to snuggle into Tasha’s body and let out a small sigh as she settled.  

Tasha gave her own quiet sigh. There was nothing she could do. She was at Patterson’s mercy and decided she would lay there until she woke up. Patterson needed and deserved the sleep even if Tasha was uncomfortable in every sense of the word. 

*** 

It wasn’t the first time Patterson had woken up in the last 24 hours feeling like someone’s arms were wrapped around her. The last time it had been a dream, but she knew those arms. They’d belonged to Robert Borden. Those hands had gripped her hips and eventually sent her jumping out of bed. The arms around her now were definitely not Borden’s. They didn’t frighten her. She felt safe and secure. Whoever the arms belonged to was pressed against her backside, or more accurately, she was pressed up against someone with her hands locked around their forearms. 

_Not Borden_ , she thought. She opened her eyes slowly. Her eye mask was missing and a lot of sunlight was filtering through the windows. Patterson blinked the sleep out of her eyes and tried to recall whatever events led to her sharing her bed so intimately with someone. 

She should have felt nervous or worried at the very least. She’d woken up in bed with someone wrapped around her. With all that was going on, Patterson was surprised that she felt relaxed and — 

_Comfortable_ , her brain supplied.  

Patterson risked looking down at the arms. Her own hands were clutching onto the mysterious forearms, and she knew in an instant who they belonged to. 

_Tasha?_  

The memory of the previous night began to come back to her. The nightmare about Borden. She’d woken up in bed, convinced he was there with her, grinding himself against her; and in her panic, Patterson called Tasha. The Latina had come over in the middle of the night, and Patterson remembered begging her friend to stay, to sleep with her.  

_Why is she spooning me_? Patterson wondered as she urged her brain to think harder. When no explanation came, she decided she ought to get up, find coffee, and at least consider getting ready for work.  

She shifted carefully in Tasha’s embrace as she searched for an escape route. The last thing Patterson wanted to do was wake her up. After she’d called her in the middle of the night and Tasha arrived, gun in hand, Patterson thought she deserved as much sleep as she wanted.  

“Hey,” Tasha said sleepily as she felt Patterson stir. “You okay?” 

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Patterson asked as she extracted herself from Tasha’s hold and rolled over to look at her.   

Tasha gratefully pulled her arms back and rubbed at her deadened right arm, urging the blood flow to return.  

“No,” she admitted. “I’ve been awake for a bit. I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

“Did I sleep on your arm all night?” 

Tasha nodded as she stretched and gave a yawn. Pins and needles shot and up down her right arm and she shook it.  

“You had a nightmare —” 

“I remember.” 

“No, after that. Another one,” Tasha said. “I grabbed you and hugged you to stop you from thrashing. Then you cuddled into me so I let you.” 

Patterson felt herself turn red and looked away embarrassed. She was really depending on Tasha for too much. Calling her in the dead of night and then latching onto her like a koala bear. It wasn’t fair and Tasha was being too sweet about it.  

Tasha reached her hand out and touched Patterson’s arm. The smile on her lips was small but genuine.  

“It’s okay, P,” she said. “You needed to sleep and you looked really peaceful just now. That’s good. That’s really good.” 

Patterson scooted up in the bed until she was in a sitting position, her back up against the headboard. She brushed her hair away from her face. Tasha said it was okay but that didn’t make her feel less embarrassed about her behavior or how she’d latched onto her best friend as if Tasha was her girlfriend, pushing her ass into Tasha’s lap. She hoped she hadn’t made Tasha feel awkward. That was the last thing she wanted.  

“I’m sorry,” she said.  

Tasha sat up next to Patterson and yawned again. She’d slept those four hours next to Patterson but before that, she’d barely gotten an hour in after the basketball game ended. She’d be dead on her feet in a few hours.  

“Don’t be,” she said. “Really, Patterson. It’s okay. You needed someone and I’m glad I could be here for you.” 

“Still,” Patterson began. “You’re been so great to me the last few days. I just wish I had this all under control. I hate—” 

“Patterson, stop,” Tasha said firmly. She turned her body so she was looking at Patterson. “Don’t worry about any of it. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you. I just want you to be okay.” 

*** 

Tasha let the cold water of the shower cascade over her. She’d left Patterson’s place and gone straight home. Patterson had insisted she’d be okay to get her own coffee and get ready for work; she’d see her in an hour in the lab. As soon as Tasha left, her mind returned to how she’d woken up. She could still smell that scent that was uniquely Patterson – partly soap and partly something Tasha couldn’t quite put her finger on – and the more she thought about how Patterson had pushed her body into her, the more her arousal returned. Now, she stood under the cold shower and tried to think of anything other than Patterson’s beautiful body pushed up against her own and the way she’d reacted. 

That was harder to do than it seemed. As her soapy hands roamed over her naked body, her brain returned to Patterson’s frantic midnight phone call. Tasha had dreamed on more than one occasion that she’d get a call from her friend in the middle of the night but when she got there, Patterson would throw her against the wall and they’d wind up fucking in every room of her apartment. The thought of it brought out a groan from Tasha, and she reached for the cold-water tap, cranking it as far open as she could.  

She let the icy water pelt over her for a minute before abruptly turning it off and grabbing for a towel. She needed to get it together, stop thinking about Patterson like that, and get ready for work.  

As she dressed, her cell phone vibrated once on the bathroom counter and she grabbed for it. Tasha glanced at the display. Bill. 

**Tasha – Could you meet me for a quick coffee this morning before you head to work? Only if you have** **time,** **of course.**  

Tasha read his text twice before answering. She couldn’t imagine why he’d want to meet her for coffee.  

**Sure. Is everything okay?**  

Bill’s response was immediate.  

**Everything’s fine. I was just hoping to talk to you away from Patterson. Starbucks near the office?**  

**No. Patterson goes there every morning. Think Coffee. It’s a couple blocks away. 8:30?**  

**Perfect.**  

*** 

Bill was waiting inside Think Coffee when Tasha arrived. She was sure she was early but nevertheless, Bill was sitting at a table, a cup in hand and a second cup across the table. He waved when he saw her and stood while waiting for her to make her way through the crowded shop. He pulled out the chair opposite his own and ushered Tasha into it.  

“Good morning,” she said. She spotted the cup and gave Bill a smile. “You didn’t order me coffee, did you?” 

Bill took a swallow from his own cup.  

“Of course, I did,” he said pleasantly. “I asked you to meet me. Black, right? That’s how you take your coffee?” 

“Yeah, black,” Tasha replied and took a sip. The coffee was great. She hadn’t had any so far that morning and she had a feeling this was going to be a multiple cup day. “So, what’s up, Bill? Is everything okay?” 

Bill nodded and set his cup down. He absently adjusted his tie. He had a lot of things he wanted to know and wasn’t really sure how to begin. It wasn’t his normal habit to dig into his daughter’s life but there were things he needed to know that he wasn’t sure Patterson would tell him. He decided to start small.  

“Is Patterson okay?” he asked finally. “I know what she said yesterday at lunch but I’ve never seen her like that before.” 

Tasha considered this for a moment while she took another sip of her coffee. She wasn’t sure if she ought to tell Bill about Patterson’s phone call or that she’d spent the night at her friend’s apartment. It seemed like something Patterson should tell her father herself but she knew she never would, and Bill seemed genuinely concerned.

She must have taken too long to answer because Bill set his hand down on the table and sighed.  

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m just worried about her, and I figured if anyone would know anything, it’d be you.” 

She shook her head.  

“No, it’s not that,” she said. “I was just trying to decide if it was my place to tell you or if Patterson should tell you. But we both know Patterson. She won’t tell you.” 

Bill chuckled. That was the truth.  

“She had a nightmare last night about Borden. He tried to kill her again and then, when she thought she’d woken up, he was in her bed —” 

“She was still asleep.” 

Tasha nodded.  

“Yeah. She called me to come over and I got her to go back to sleep, but...” Tasha sighed and let her words hang there for a minute. Bill didn’t need to know that she’d spent the entire time sleeping next to his daughter, holding her body tight to her own. “I don’t know, Bill. I’ve never seen her like this. Patterson is the smartest, bravest person I know and right now she’s just this shell of herself. I don’t know what to do for her. I’m just trying to be there. That sounds dumb, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.” 

“That’s not dumb,” Bill said, his brow furrowing. “You’re doing the best you can. Patterson is lucky to have you for a girlfriend. I know you really care about her.” 

Tasha nearly spit her coffee out, instead she swallowed the hot liquid wrong and dissolved into a coughing fit. She thumped herself on the chest a few times with the heel of her hand before she was able to get control of herself.  

“What?” she choked out, coughing again. “Girlfriend? Patterson and I  _aren’t_  dating. She’s my best friend. Did she tell you that? Did she say we were together?” 

Bill blushed and shook his head.  

“No, she didn’t say that,” he said. “I just guessed. You guys are so close and she’s told you things she hasn’t told anyone. I saw the way you looked at her yesterday, and... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I hope I didn’t offend you.” 

Tasha shook her head and took a careful swallow of her coffee. Her throat burned from her fit.  

“No offense at all,” she said. “I’m totally gay, but Patterson and I are just friends. She’s my best friend. That’s it. Not girlfriends. Just a girl who’s my friend.” 

Bill didn’t say anything for a long moment. It was a shame, really. He thought that Tasha and his daughter were a couple, and he’d been happy for them. Patterson deserved to be happy and he was sure that if they had been dating, Tasha would do anything to make sure that she was happy and safe always. Patterson deserved someone who would move mountains for her, and he thought that Tasha would do just that.  

“I have to get back to work today,” he said, all of his questions answered without needing to be asked. “I’m wrapping up a lab project. Will you keep me posted? I mean if anything happens with Patterson. She’ll never tell me.” 

“Of course, Bill,” Tasha replied. “Thank you for coming so quickly for her. Patterson really needed you.” 

Bill smiled over his coffee cup. 

“Maybe so,” he said as he started back out of his chair. “But I think she’s got everything she needs right now.” He put a hand on the back of Tasha’s chair as he leaned down to hug her. “Thanks for calling me. Patterson’s lucky to have you. Even if you’re  _just_ friends.” 

Tasha returned Bill’s hug and watched as he headed out of the coffee shop. She finally got to her feet and grabbed her empty cup, tossing it into the nearest trash can. His words stayed with her, though. Bill thought they were dating and he seemed a little disappointed that they weren’t. Not that Tasha hadn’t thought about asking Patterson out at least a dozen times, but it wouldn’t be right. They were coworker, best friends, and up until now, Tasha didn’t think she’d be into it. There’d been David and Borden and Jack. She thought she knew Patterson’s type, but maybe Bill knew something she didn’t.  

Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket as she pushed through the shop’s front door and turned left towards the NYO. She fished it out and checked the display. Reade. 

“Zapata,” she said by way of a greeting. She listened to Reade for a moment, her speed slowing until she was nearly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Then she abruptly began moving again, quicker than before, breaking into a jog. “I’m on my way.” 

She jammed her phone back in her pocket and retrieved her FBI badge wallet. She flipped it open with a practiced ease and held it above her head. She sprinted down the sidewalk, the heels of her boots clicking noisily.  

“FBI” she yelled. “Outta the way!” 


	5. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I keep dragging you into my nightmare and you keep making me feel better. I just keep falling apart over and over again. I don’t know how you keep doing it, but you keep putting me back together again. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where, oh where, am I going? I don't know. But I think we'll wrap this up in another chapter or two. My plot is meandering and I don't know where it is anymore. Send help.

The elevator was slow. It wasn’t actually slow but it sure seemed that way as Tasha shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. As soon as the doors started to slide open, she charged through them into SIOC, spotting Reade and Weller talking a few feet away. A number of agents in white lab coats were milling around the workstations. Despite the unusual number of people, the area was nearly silent.  

“Where is she?” she demanded, approaching Reade and Weller and interrupting their conversation. As soon as the words left her lips, she knew the answer. Patterson had cleared out the lab; kicked everyone else out. That’s why the techs were all just wandering around and why it was so quiet. She wagered that Patterson had exploded. She spotted Briana scurrying past the open lab door, glancing nervously inside, and then continuing on to a nearby desk where a few other techs had gathered and were whispering.  

Reade started to reply but Tasha was already moving towards the lab. She didn’t need his explanation. He said something but she didn’t hear it and no longer cared. She had one goal in mind: get to Patterson and find out what happened.  

The lab looked empty as Tasha scanned the space. Every work station was vacant. Whatever happened, everyone had left in a hurry.  

_Yup, she exploded_ , Tasha thought.

She was about to turn and head out, whatever Reade was trying to say must have been that Patterson wasn’t there, but then she spotted her. Patterson was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her desk. She was doubled over and her hands covered her face. Tasha wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw her shoulders shaking with occasional silent sobs.  

Tasha was frozen to the spot. She couldn’t look away and she couldn’t quite bring herself to comfort her friend. She’d told Bill she’d never seen Patterson like this before, but it seemed like she said that all the time now. Once again, she’d never seen Patterson look so broken before. Her heart felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces. If it were anyone else, Tasha might have just quietly walked away, but it was Patterson. She felt completely helpless and, at the same time, like she needed to find whoever had broken her friend and make them pay. Repeatedly. In increasingly painful and creative ways.  

She found herself walking across the room to where Patterson was crumpled on the floor, and she sat beside her. It felt like she was on autopilot as she wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her into a tight hug. She rested her cheek on the top of Patterson’s head and smoothed her hair before placing a kiss on the top of her head. Patterson leaned into Tasha and neither woman spoke for a long time.  

“What's happening, P? Talk to me,” Tasha said softly once Patterson’s shoulders stopped shaking.  

Patterson didn't respond immediately. She took several deep breaths and tried to pull herself back together. If she hadn’t fallen apart so many times in front of Tasha recently, she would have been embarrassed. Now? There was no one she was more relieved to see. Every time Tasha came running to her rescue, everything got a little clearer, she felt more secure and much more relaxed. She could hold onto her forever.  

She pulled out of the hug and slowly turned her face up to look at Tasha. Instead of the judgement she thought might find, she only saw concern on her friend’s face.  

“Borden is here,” she said quietly. “Interrogation Room 2.” 

Tasha’s mouth fell open and Patterson must have read the dozens of questions there because she continued on without giving her a chance to ask any of them.  

“Jane made a deal with him. He wouldn’t keep talking to her unless he got something in return. He wanted to come here, probably to talk to me,” Patterson explained. There was no emotion in her voice. “Reade approved it.” 

Anger ripped through Tasha. Patterson was still talking, explaining what happened and why she was sitting on the floor of her lab with tears streaming down her face, but Tasha couldn’t hear her anymore. The only thing she heard was the rush of the red tide of anger that coursed through her. How could Reade approve a deal like that? How could he not even warn her? He  _knew_  Patterson was barely hanging on, and it was all because of Borden. She was furious. He could have at least told her. At the very least, Tasha could have kept Patterson away from the NYO. She realized Patterson probably wasn’t even told until she spotted him on the security feeds. She was about two steps away from a complete breakdown, and instead of getting over it, she was getting worse and worse.  

Tasha had never seen Patterson like this before. Ever. It destroyed her.  

“Come on. Get up. Come with me,” Tasha said decisively as she got to her feet. She had no idea what her plan was but she was going to do something anyway. She reached a hand down to help Patterson up. “We're not staying here and I'm not arguing with you about it.” 

Patterson studied Tasha’s face for a moment, looking for any sign of what she might be thinking. Her face was stony, set, and serious. There was no sense arguing with her. She simply nodded and let Tasha lead her out of the lab towards the locker room.  

As they approached, Tasha spotted Reade still talking with Weller and she turned to face Patterson.  

“Go get your stuff,” she said quietly. “I’m gonna tell Reade were leaving. I’ll meet you in a minute.” 

Patterson shook her head and began to protest, complaining about all the work she had to do, but stopped when Tasha frowned at her and raised a single eyebrow.  

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get my stuff.” 

Tasha waited for Patterson to disappear through the door before storming over to Reade. It took everything she had not to haul off and punch him in the face.  

“What the  _hell_  were you thinking bringing him here?” she yelled in a loud whisper, drawing the attention of a few lingering agents. “You see how she is, don’t you? You couldn’t even warn me? ‘Hey Tasha, don’t let Patterson come to work today. Borden’s here?’ What the hell, Reade?” 

She paused to let him respond but as soon as he opened his mouth, she cut him off and continued on angrily.  

“She is falling apart, Reade. She is broken.  _Broken_. You aren’t making it better.” 

“Tasha,” Reade began, trying to keep his own rising anger in check. “Listen, it’s not like that. Just calm down for a minute.” 

Tasha felt a twitch in her arm. She wanted to pull back and punch him hard. Instead she balled her hand into a fist and slammed it against her side before turning towards the locker room door. She suddenly whirled back around to face him again, jabbing her index finger at him. 

“Calm down? Calm down?” she yelled. She took a slow, deep breath and lowered her voice again. “Reade! Come on! Patterson has barely slept the last few days. Because of this thing with Jane. Because of Borden. She’s completely falling apart. Bringing him here...” she trailed off and turned back to the locker room and then turned back again. “Stupid. It was stupid, Reade. Patterson is your  _friend_. We’re leaving. I don’t know where we’re going, but she can’t be here. Not until he’s gone.” 

Tasha turned and pushed the door to the locker room open. She was sure Reade was still standing there staring at the door with a confused look on his face, and that thought made her smile slightly as she tried to wipe the anger off her face. Patterson was at her locker, closing its door, purse in hand when Tasha appeared beside her.  

“You ready?” Tasha asked.  

Patterson looked at her curiously. The vein in her neck was standing out and she saw the anger in her eyes despite the smile on her lips. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked.  

“Yeah, everything's fine,” Tasha replied and gave Patterson a small smile. “Ready?” 

The pair boarded the elevator in silence and Tasha thumbed the button for the lobby. She had no idea where they were going, but they couldn’t stay here. The NYO wasn’t an option right now, and Tasha knew Patterson really just needed to get away. She could take her to her apartment or she could just take her home, but a change of scenery would be the best thing. When her partner at the NYPD had been killed, that’s exactly what she needed, and her girlfriend at the time had seen that and acted. They’d spent a weekend at a cottage out on Long Island. After 48 hours of drinks, swimming, laying on the beach, and mind-melting sex everything had become clear to Tasha. She’d gone to work the following Monday morning, given her resignation to her captain, and then applied to the FBI Academy. Mind-melting sex aside, this sounded exactly like what Patterson needed.  

When they arrived at Patterson’s apartment, Tasha shooed her into the bedroom with the directive to pack a bag with enough clothes for a weekend. 

“Tasha, I don’t want to run,” Patterson objected as Tasha grabbed an empty duffle bag from the floor of her closet and set it on the bed.  

“You’re not running,” Tasha said, sitting down next to the bag. “I think you need a change of scenery. Go somewhere, relax, forget about all of this. Staying here won’t help. It’s too... familiar.” 

Patterson sat down next to Tasha and pushed the bag aside.  

“It feels like running,” she said. “Like I’m letting him win or something.”  

Tasha shook her head.  

“It’s not,” she insisted. “I swear. Let’s just get you away from the office, from Jane and Reade and Weller and Rich and  _him_. I care about you, Patterson. You’re my best friend, and this place you’re in right now? It’s not good. It’s not  _you_. Let me help.” 

Patterson considered this and then gave a thoughtful nod.  

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll pack. Where are we going? What do I need?” 

Tasha bit her lip and got up from the bed, putting the duffle bag back next to Patterson. She fished her phone from her jacket pocket.  

“I haven’t quite nailed that down yet, but I will,” she said. “Just pack. Two days. Plan on the beach.” 

She turned and headed towards Patterson’s living room, ignoring her friend’s confused repeating of the word “beach.” Tasha scrolled through her contacts list and finally tapped on a name she called more often than she should considering they hadn’t dated in more than five years.  

Jess answered on the third ring.  

“Natasha Zapata,” the voice on the other end said with a slightly musical lilt. Tasha could almost hear the smile. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Hey Jess,” Tasha said. She glanced towards the bedroom and saw Patterson carefully packing a pile of clothes into the bag. “I hate to call like this but I’m hoping I can ask a favor.” 

“A favor, huh? I can be there in about 15 minutes, 10 minutes if I don’t hit any red lights,” Jess replied suggestively. “Leave the door unlocked and I’ll let myself in.” 

Tasha bit back a laugh. Typical.  

“No, not  _that_  kind of favor,” she said. “Not this time.” 

Jess clucked her tongue.  

“Too bad,” she replied. “What do ya need?” 

*** 

The cottage on Long Island was almost exactly the same as Tasha remembered it. There was new paint and a gross “Live, Laugh, Love” sign hanging outside next to the front door, but it was mostly unchanged. Jess’s grandparents gave her the house more than a decade earlier and for a while she’d lived in it full-time, but now it was just a secondary vacation home. There was no way she would have been able to afford beachfront property otherwise. The small 1950s-style cottage was surrounded on all sides by newly renovated multimillion-dollar homes and it stuck out like a sore thumb.  

Tasha climbed the wooden steps leading to a deck and headed straight for a plastic deck box containing patio furniture cushions. She flipped the lid open and rifled through it for a moment before straightening up and holding a single silver key victoriously over her head. It was exactly where Jess promised it would be. She hurried back to the black government-issued sedan and went around to the passenger door, opening it with a flourish and ushering Patterson out.  

“What are we doing here, Tash?” she asked as they went around to the trunk to grab their bags. “Where  _is_  here?” 

Tasha pulled both bags out, shouldered her own, and slammed the trunk lid. She headed to the front door, frowned at the cliché sign on the wall, and slid the key into the lock.  

“A friend of mine owns this place,” she explained. “I asked to borrow it for the weekend. It’s quiet and peaceful and the beach is gorgeous. It’s a great place to just decompress. Come on.” 

Patterson hesitated at the rear of the car and watched as Tasha pushed the door open. When she realized her friend was still standing next to the car, Tasha turned back. 

“Would you just trust me?” 

“Fine,” Patterson replied. She slowly climbed the steps to the front door and stepped inside.  

Tasha followed her and closed the door behind them. Her first impression was right: nothing had changed. Jess may have slapped on a fresh coat of paint and put a few new touches out but the mismatched garage sale furniture and 1970s appliances were exactly how she remembered them. She glanced around quickly and spotted the two doors leading to bedrooms. She started towards the guest room and set Patterson’s bag down on the bed.  

“This is you. Relaxation begins now,” she instructed when she popped back out and then pointed to the other bedroom. “I’m gonna change for the beach.” 

Tasha disappeared into the other bedroom and closed the door quietly behind her. It’d been a long time since she saw the inside of this particular room, but evidence of her last visit was still there. The headboard sported two nearly identical marks from where her handcuffs had rubbed away the finish. She reddened slightly at the memory — things with Jess were different from how they’d been with every other woman she’d been with. Their relationship had always been intensely physical but that was the only thing intense about it. They remained good friends but there had never been any kind of emotional connection. It was the exact opposite of her relationship with Patterson. They connected on an emotional and intellectual level, but it wasn’t physical, of course. If things were different, she thought maybe, well, it’d be different, but they weren’t and she’d never push the issue. Tasha dropped her bag onto the bed and searched through it, retrieving the necessities for an afternoon on the beach. 

Patterson watched Tasha slip into the master bedroom but didn’t make any moves towards the guest room. She’d let her friend convince her to ditch work and run away to Long Island for the weekend so she could “decompress,” but it wasn’t as easy as she made it seem. They may have left the city behind, but her anxiety and fears had packed their own bags and traveled along with them. It felt irrational and slightly dumb, but she was almost afraid to go into the guest room. What if he was there, sprawled on the bed and waiting for her? She shook her head.  

_No, Borden is at the NYO having tea with Jane_ , she thought. 

She took a moment to look around the unfamiliar cottage and took in the gorgeous view of the beach that was on display from the living room’s oversized windows. Tasha was right. The cottage was the perfect place to decompress, but her brain was having a hard time shutting down. They were hours away from the NYO where Borden was sitting in an interrogation room, chatting with Jane and all of her friends. Her best friend was in the other room, and she knew Tasha would do everything she could to make sure the weekend was great and worry free. She also knew Tasha was carrying her service pistol. It may not have been in full display on her hip, but Patterson knew she had it. That was sort of comforting. 

She heaved out a large sigh and took one more look around the room before retreating to the guest room. As expected, the room was empty except for her bag on the bed. Patterson didn't much feel like hanging out on the beach but Tasha had gone out of her way to borrow the cottage from her friend and drive them all the way out there, and she’d done it all for her. Maybe a weekend at the beach  _would_ help her clear her mind.  

Tasha heard the door to the guest room click closed just as she was leaving the master. She’d done her very best packing for a weekend away in just a few short minutes but had forgotten one very important thing: alcohol. She crossed the kitchen, set her beach towel and sunscreen on the counter, and went to the fridge. If she knew Jess as well as she thought she did... 

“Bless you and your little alcoholic heart, Jess,” Tasha grinned as she looked into the well-stocked refrigerator. “I owe you.” 

She pulled a half dozen bottles of beer from the fridge and set them on the counter before looking for something to serve as a cooler.  

“What are you doing?” Patterson asked as she returned from the guest room. She’d done as Tasha asked and changed into her swimsuit. She wrapped a beach towel around her waist and was tucking it securely in place as she entered the kitchen but stopped short when she saw Tasha. The Latina had changed into a simple black bikini and had a pair of aviator sunglasses perched on top of her head. For a fleeting minute Patterson was transfixed.  

“Looking for something we can use as a cooler,” Tasha said absently as she opened a cabinet. Her eyes fell on a large metal bowl and she pulled it out. “This would work, right? Fill it with ice?” 

“And bury it in the sand,” Patterson said, snapping out of her daze, and nodding. She took the bowl and went to the freezer. She thought she might find a few ice cube trays. She didn’t expect to find several large bags of ice waiting for them. She turned back to look at Tasha. “Who did you say you borrowed this place from? It’s like whoever it is was getting ready to party.” 

Tasha had moved on to the pantry and was pulling a bag of potato chips out. She showed Patterson and got an approving nod.  

“It belongs to my ex-girlfriend. When I asked to borrow the cottage, she said she’d take care of us. Looks like she did,” Tasha said casually as she helped Patterson fill the bowl with ice and beer. She grabbed for her towel, sunscreen, and bag of chips and nodded towards a door that opened up to the deck, leading to the waterfront. “Ready?” 

Patterson nodded and adjusted the towel around her waist before picking up the bowl filled with drinks and following Tasha. She considered what Tasha had just said:  _her ex-girlfriend._ She had no idea that Tasha dated girls; there’d been that mess with Reade after all.  

They walked across the beach until Tasha stopped a few yards away from where the waves were lightly crashing onto the sand. 

“Here good?” she asked, and when Patterson shrugged, she dropped her towel into the sand, set the bag of chips down, and began digging a hole to insulate their makeshift cooler. “Anyway, After Andy died, she brought me here to clear my head. It really helped. We spent the weekend here, I was able to get my head together, and then I quit my job. Went to the Academy, got assigned to the NYO.” 

“Hmmm,” Patterson replied as she spread her towel on the sand and sat down on it. She stretched out along it and felt the heat of the sun and sand warm her all over. Maybe a weekend at the beach was a good idea. The company was good, the weather was gorgeous, and the view was fantastic. 

Tasha spread her own towel out, slipped her sunglasses down over her eyes, and sat down before sinking the bowl into the sand between them. She grabbed a bottle, popped the cap, and passed it to Patterson before grabbing one for herself. They sat in silence for a long time. Tasha looked up and down the beach. For a warm summer day, the beach was relatively empty. None of the neighbors were outside enjoying the sun, and Tasha guessed they were all still working. Right now, it was as if they had their own private beach. She stretched along the length of her towel and leaned back on her elbows, letting the sun warm her skin. 

Patterson stared out at the waves as they crashed onto the beach. She took a long swallow of her beer as her brain fixated on what it perceived as the bomb Tasha had dropped in the kitchen. She licked her lips. 

“I didn’t know,” she said finally, never breaking her gaze from the waves. If she looked over at Tasha, she was afraid she’d stare. It wasn’t like she’d never seen Tasha in various states of dress before but the bikini she’d selected for the weekend left extremely little to the imagination. Tasha’s every curve was on display, and every time Patterson looked, she couldn’t help but stare.  

“What?” Tasha asked, turning to look at Patterson. 

The blonde shook her head and glanced over at Tasha. She shouldn’t have said anything but her brain was in overdrive. She'd been so fixated on Borden, her unshakeable nightmares, and then his unexpected appearance in the NYO that Tasha’s casual comment about an ex-girlfriend gave her brain a much-needed off-ramp to Distraction Land. Now she kept rolling that around in her head _._  

“You’re gay,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t mean to pry.” 

Tasha gave a single nod and took another sip of her beer. She hadn’t really intended to come out to Patterson this weekend, not that she’d been hiding it from her, but here they were talking about her sexuality. She supposed it was a good distraction. At least if Patterson was focused on who Tasha had sex with, she wasn’t thinking about Borden. The cottage had served its purpose, she guessed. 

“Does it matter?”  

“No, of course not,” Patterson replied quickly. “I just... I didn’t know. What about Reade?” 

Tasha didn't respond right away. What about Reade indeed. She'd almost exclusively dated women since she was a teenager when realized girls were much nicer to look at. Sure, she’d gone out with a few guys since then, but Tasha had known she was gay for a long time. But then there was Reade. He was different. He was one of her best friends, and yes, she'd spent most of the last year obsessed with his engagement to Meg and then had thrown her own hat in the ring, but why? She'd even gone to his apartment and slept with him, immediately recognizing the mistake and further affirming her distaste for sex with men. She’d told him their timing was off, but the truth was timing had nothing to do with it. He was still a guy and she still wasn’t into it, even if she did love him.  

She shook her head and took another swallow. Patterson was watching her, waiting for a response.  

“Reade… I don't know, Patterson,” she said after trying to come up with an explanation. She could barely explain it to herself, how could she explain it to Patterson? Tasha waited for her to say something else but she didn’t, and Tasha found herself babbling. “It’s hard to... Reade’s one of my best friends. We were partners. He’s always had my back. I don’t know, P. It’s Reade. I don’t want to say that I owed it to him because that’s crap, but it sorta feels that way.” 

Patterson didn’t respond right away. She turned her gaze back to the waves. She’d seen how Tasha reacted when Reade got engaged. Hell, Tasha had  _told_ her how she felt about him. She took another swallow of her beer and then looked back to Tasha. For the first time in days, she wasn’t thinking about Borden or Jane or the fear that gripped onto her so hard that she couldn’t stop crying. She almost felt normal again. 

“So...” she began slowly, drawing the word out. “You like girls but you also like Reade?” 

“I don’t like Reade,” Tasha said sharply. “I mean, friend, sure, maybe. It’s complicated right now, but I’m not interested in Reade.” 

“Hmmm,” Patterson replied.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

“Nothing,” the blonde said simply and took another swallow of her nearly empty beer.  

Tasha shook her head.  

“The thing with Reade was a mistake,” she said. “It wasn’t fair to him and...” 

“And?” Patterson prompted when Tasha trailed off. 

“And... I fucked him, Patterson,” Tasha said bluntly. “I went to his apartment and threw myself at him like some kind of drunken slut. And afterwards, I was grossed out. I love Reade but I can’t love Reade. Not like that.” 

Patterson raised her eyebrows and stared at Tasha over her beer bottle.  

“It’s not like he’s the first guy I’ve been with,” Tasha said defensively. “I’ve dated guys before. And I love Reade. He’s a really good friend, so I thought... I was confused. I don’t wanna be with Reade. I can’t.” 

They both fell into silence. Patterson didn’t know what to say and it seemed liked Tasha had nothing else to say on the topic. She finished her beer and pushed the bottom of the empty bottle into the sand. The bag of chips was unopened on Tasha’s towel and she grabbed for it, opened the bag and took a handful of the salty chips. Before she could look for another drink, Tasha was handing her another cold bottle. Patterson laughed around a mouthful of chips as she took it from her and clinked her new bottle against the one Tasha was fishing out of their improvised cooler.  

“Good timing,” she said and took another swallow as she leaned back onto her beach towel. Patterson closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her skin until she felt something plastic tapping against the side of her exposed stomach.  

“You’re gonna burn,” Tasha said, holding out a bottle of sunscreen. “Put this on. I don’t wanna listen to you complaining later about how your perfect skin is bright red and peeling.” 

Patterson took the sunscreen from Tasha’s outstretched hand and began slathering herself with it. She didn’t know how long they’d been sitting in silence but her second beer was nearly empty. She tossed the sunscreen back to Tasha and drained her bottle before grabbing a third drink from their melting cooler.  

“Any idea how long we’ve been out here?” she asked after popping the cap.  

Tasha shook her head and squinted up at the sun.  

“An hour maybe? My phone’s inside,” she confessed.  

Patterson nodded and stared out at the waves again. The tide was beginning to change and if they didn’t move their towels soon, the waves would be crashing over them.  

“Hmmm,” Patterson replied. “This is the first time in days that I’ve actually lost track of time.” 

“That’s good, Patterson,” Tasha said, reaching for another drink. “That’s the magic of the cottage.” 

They clinked bottles again and Patterson let out a small contented sigh. When Tasha had suggested going away for the weekend, she’d resisted. It’d felt much too much like running away from her problems. Now it felt like something she’d needed and had been missing. She took a contemplative sip of her drink and let the beer coat the inside of her mouth before swallowing it down. After a moment, she sat up and swung her legs around to the edge of her towel so she was facing Tasha.  

“Thank you,” she said.  

“For what?” Tasha asked, pulling her gaze from the sailboat she’d been watching.  

Patterson gestured around them at the beach and the cottage.  

“This. All of this,” she said. “I’ve been... drowning and you’ve been there every time I start to drift out to sea.” 

“You’re my best friend, P. Of course, I’ve been here. I’ll always be right here,” Tasha said sincerely, taking her sunglasses off so she could look into Patterson’s eyes without the tint of the lenses. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.” 

Patterson took another swallow and pushed the bottle into the sand so both of her hands were free. She slapped her palms against her legs and glanced between the cottage and the water.  

“I know,” she said. “I’ve just felt so out of control lately. I can’t work. I can’t sleep. I can’t even talk without bursting into tears. I’m just broken —” 

“Patterson,” Tasha began.  

“No, just lemme say this,” she said, cutting Tasha off. “I feel like I’m broken. Until you come along. I have these panic attacks. I can’t breathe. I can barely see and I can’t think about anything except running, hiding, finding somewhere safe. But then you show up and you hug me and tell me it’s okay and it really feels like it’s okay. I hate feeling out of control. I’m not saying I’m a control freak or anything —” 

Tasha rolled her eyes. Patterson wasn’t a control freak exactly, but she did very much like to have her fingers on the buttons and hands on the switches.  

“—Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Patterson said. “I’m not a control freak but, okay, yes, maybe sometimes I have a hard time not being in control of things. And I’m definitely not in control of anything that’s been happening. But... My dad comes to town, I can’t deal with it. You come to lunch with us and I’m okay. I have a nightmare and call you in the middle of the damn night. It was 1:30 in the morning. You show up and I slept for the first time in almost two days. Everything is out of control and terrifying. You’re here and its opposite opposite. I don’t understand it, but thank you.” 

Patterson felt tears start to form in her eyes and she tried to blink them away. She didn’t know when she became so emotional about every little thing but here she was, crying again for what seemed like the 100th time in less than a week. She brushed her tears away and shook her head in frustration.  

“I’m sorry,” she blubbered and sniffed loudly. “I keep falling apart on you. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I hadn’t dragged you into this —” 

“You didn’t drag me into anything,” Tasha objected, reaching over and grabbing her hand. She squeezed it. “I promise.” 

Patterson shook her head again but smiled weakly.  

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I keep dragging you into my nightmare and you keep making me feel better. I just keep falling apart over and over again. I don’t know how you keep doing it, but you keep putting me back together again. Thank you.” 

Tasha smiled and got up from her towel. She sat down next to Patterson and hugged her.  

“Shhh,” she said. “Stop apologizing. Stop thanking me. It’s okay. That’s what friends do, P.” 

Patterson leaned into Tasha’s hug the same way she’d done every other time, resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. She thought the cottage and the beach had been what made her relax for the first time in days. Now she realized that all of that was secondary. It was Tasha. Every time she’d fallen apart, Tasha had somehow made her feel whole again. She finally pulled out of the hug and smiled at Tasha.  

“Thank —” 

“No,” Tasha said. “Stop thanking me.” 

She got up from Patterson’s towel and stretched slightly before gathering up her towel, the now empty bag of chips, and makeshift cooler.  

“Come on,” she said, gesturing towards the cottage. “Let’s figure out some kind of dinner. We’ve got a whole weekend here and as much as I like the sound of it, we can’t live on potato chips and beer all weekend.” 


	6. Becoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initially, there’d been that anger and fear. Fear. That was the overwhelming emotion, if she was truly being honest with herself. It was stupid. Borden was in prison. Locked up. Men with guns were guarding him and there was no way he was going to get out. Ever. Out here on Long Island, though, he may as well have been a million miles away. Patterson no longer felt like crying or hiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe just one more chapter after this, guys. I don't know. It's dragging on forever and I'm struggling to get through it. If anyone has ideas how to wrap this up or where I should go with this, I'm all ears.

The cottage’s living room was a mess of containers from every type of take-out they could have delivered. It seemed ridiculous at first. They were away on a mini-vacation and could have gone to any number of restaurants within walking distance or even cooked something on the small charcoal grill next to the house. Instead, they’d reached for their phones, found every local take-out place, and ordered a mishmash of Chinese, Thai, pizza, and some exceptionally and unexpectedly good French fries.  

Tasha was sprawled on the couch with a hand resting on her stomach while Patterson made the move to start collecting some of their trash.  

"Too much food," Tasha groaned as she tried to roll onto her side to track Patterson’s movements. "Whose idea was that?" 

Patterson dropped a stack of paper plates in a trash can and returned to the living room. She brushed a pile of Uno cards off the seat of a nearby armchair and dropped into it. She pointed vaguely in Tasha’s direction.  

"I believe your exact words were ‘I’m not in the mood for anything,’ and then you ordered everything," she said with a laugh. "Though the fries were really amazing. Good call." 

"Hmm," Tasha replied and struggled to sit back up. She slid back against the arm of the couch, knocking another pile of Uno cards to the floor. She noticed them and laughed. "Did we even finish the game?" 

Patterson thought for a moment and then shook her head.  

"No," she said. "You were losing, the food arrived, and then you declared game over." 

"I was not losing." 

"You were losing. Big." 

"Whatever." 

They fell into a comfortable silence as they turned their attention to the windows overlooking the beach. A few hours had passed since they’d given up on the sun and retreated for actual food. Take-out and beer weren’t quite actual food, but Tasha supposed it was better than potato chips and beer. She surveyed the disaster they’d created and yawned, sneaking a glance at a wall clock hanging in the kitchen. It’d been a long day and between the drive to Long Island, the sun, and all the food and beer, she was ready to pass out. She hadn’t really gotten a full night’s sleep since Patterson found out Jane was talking to Borden. She yawned again and stretched.  

"I think I’m gonna go pass out in a bed and not this lumpy-ass couch," she said. "You gonna be okay?" 

Patterson nodded and smiled, pulling her gaze away from the windows.  

"You’re just afraid we’ll play another hand and I’ll kick your ass," she teased. "I’ll be fine. Probably go to bed soon, too. I’m just gonna pick up some of this mess. It'll haunt me otherwise." 

Tasha got up from the couch and started through the kitchen towards the bedrooms. She turned back.  

"You sure you’re good?" she asked, stifling another yawn. "Want help?" 

"No, I’m good," Patterson replied. "Really. Honest. I’m good. Go to sleep. I’m just gonna clean up a little and then crash." 

Tasha hesitated as she tried to read into Patterson’s words. Was she really good or was she just staying that because she still felt guilty about dragging her into her mess? Her words seemed genuine and Tasha finally nodded thoughtfully.  

"Okay," she said, resting a hand on the door frame of the master bedroom. "If you need me, you know where to find me." 

"'Night, Tasha." 

"Goodnight, Patterson." 

She watched as Tasha slipped into the bedroom and waited for the door to close before turning back to survey the mess they made. She hadn’t lied. For the first time in a while, Patterson felt clear-headed and somewhat relaxed even if the disaster from dinner was giving her mild anxiety. She grabbed for the garbage can and began tossing in empty containers and bottles as she moved around the room.  

It felt like years had passed since first hearing that Jane was talking to Borden and for a brief moment while they played cards and laughed and ate too much food, Patterson almost forgot about it. Now that she was alone in the living room faced with silence, she remembered. She dropped the last of their trash into the garbage and sank down into the couch. Patterson stared out at the darkened beach and listened to the waves crashing against the sand. Her mind began to wander. 

Initially, there’d been that anger and fear. Fear. That was the overwhelming emotion, if she was truly being honest with herself. It was stupid. Borden was in prison. Locked up. Men with guns were guarding him and there was no way he was going to get out. Ever. Tasha and the CIA had made sure of that when they burned his deal. The simple reminder that he existed, however, had been enough to send her into a panic. And her father was right, although she would never admit it. It felt like Jane had chosen sides, choosing Borden over her. Rationally, she knew that wasn’t the case but she couldn’t shake it. Of all the therapists Jane could have chosen, she’d chosen him. 

For a very short time she thought she could get over it. Between the conversation with her dad and Tasha’s unwavering support, she was on the way to being able to move on. She felt stronger when she was with Tasha. There was something about her friend’s words and her simple presence that made her feel like it would be okay, no matter what. But then he was there. In the NYO. Just yards away from her own desk. There was no warning; he’d just appeared and she’d dissolved into a puddle on the floor, incapable of moving or doing anything but breaking into uncontrollable sobs.  

Out here on Long Island, though, he may as well have been a million miles away. Patterson no longer felt like crying or hiding. Once she claimed to pity him, but she knew that had never been true. She didn’t pity him and she didn't pity herself either. If anything, she was afraid of him and everything he represented in her life. Robert Borden wasn’t the Boogey Man but he was a man who she’d trusted and he’d used that trust against her. And tried to kill her. There was that small detail, too.  

She  _was_ afraid of him. That was undeniable. Patterson considered this as she stared out at the waves. She wasn’t afraid that he might do something to her; that was irrational. Instead, the fear was something else. Borden had been a teaching moment for her – a painful one, but a teaching moment nonetheless. She’d trusted him so freely, never giving pause to going out with him or inviting him into her bed. He’d been cleared by the FBI. Just a coworker. He was just a guy. But Borden was a reminder that even after David had been murdered because of her job and her own indiscretions, she’d still trusted someone else so quickly. Because of him, she’d had a hard time trusting herself in the days, months, and years that followed. He’d gotten inside her head like no one ever had because he made her doubt herself.  

That was one of the worst after effects. He’d gotten inside of her head and now she second-guessed almost everything she did. 

*** 

Tasha woke up and stared into the blackness of the bedroom. It took a second for her to remember where she was, and then it all came back to her. Patterson’s meltdown in the lab at the NYO and the house in Long Island. She licked her lips and yawned. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. She silently blamed all the beer and salty food and squinted towards her cellphone to catch a glimpse of the time. It was barely midnight. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment before swinging her legs out of bed and padding to the door in search of water.  

A thin band of light filtered under the closed door and Tasha cocked an eyebrow. Either Patterson was still awake or she’d forgotten to turn off the light. She hoped it was the latter.  

Her hopes were dashed when she opened the door, stepped into the kitchen, and spotted familiar blonde hair hanging over the arm of the couch. Patterson was sitting with her back to her, seemingly staring out the window.  

Tasha moved quietly to the kitchen and pulled two bottles of water from the refrigerator. She went towards the living room and stopped just short of where Patterson sat. 

"You’re awake," Patterson said absently when she spotted her friend’s reflection in the window.  

Tasha nodded and handed a bottle of water to her. She sat down in a nearby chair and uncapped her own bottle.  

"Thirsty," she replied and took a long swallow. "Why you still up?" 

Patterson sighed deeply but didn't turn her gaze from the window. She took a small sip of the water and recapped it before answering.  

"I started to clean up and then.. " she trailed off and shrugged.  

Tasha crossed her legs and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She took another swallow from her own water and settled more deeply into the chair.  

"You okay?" 

Patterson turned her head to look at Tasha for the first time. Her heart gave a slight flutter. The Latina had swapped her casual beach-appropriate attire for a very short pair of shorts and a tank top that was just a little bit short, leaving her stomach and defined abs slightly exposed. She gave her a small smile and nodded. 

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I was just thinking." 

"About Borden?" 

"Hmm," Patterson replied and turned to stare back out at the beach. When Tasha was getting ready to say something else, Patterson started talking again. "He scares me. Not like actually scared of him but…" 

"But what?" Tasha asked when Patterson didn't continue.  

Patterson let out a long breath and pulled herself out of her half sitting, half lounging position. She turned to face Tasha again and shrugged.  

"I’m not afraid of what he could do to me. It’s not that. He’s done enough and is in jail. I know he's not a threat, but… he’s in my head, Tash. It’s all up here," Patterson said and tapped an index finger against her temple.  

Tasha shook her head and furrowed her brow.  

"What do you mean?" 

"I trusted him. Completely," she replied and leaned back into the couch cushions again, drawing her legs up underneath her. "I let my guard down. Even after David. I let my guard down and trusted him and he fucking destroyed me. How can I trust myself again? I mean, obviously I don't have the best judgment. I got David killed and my next boyfriend tried to kill me." 

"You didn't know, P," Tasha said softly. "None of us did. You can't blame yourself for not knowing who he really was." 

"I know. I just, I let him in my head and it scares me. He makes me doubt myself. Every day. Everything I do, I have to stop and think twice. If I could be so wrong about Rober- _Nigel_ … I don't know." 

Tasha didn't respond. She'd never really considered that the self-doubt Borden had planted would still be there. Paterson was so strong and smart, and Tasha had a hard time believing anyone could make her doubt herself. But he'd done it. Now Tasha felt guilty that she never saw it. She'd always just assumed that she was afraid of the man who, without a doubt, was responsible for the greatest trauma in her friend’s life. Tasha got out of her chair and crossed the room. She sat next to Patterson and pulled her into a tight hug.  

"I’m sorry, chiquita," she said.  

"It’s not your fault, Tash," Patterson said as she reluctantly pulled away from the hug. Tasha smelled like the beach and her hug was warm and comforting. She could stay wrapped up in her arms all day. "I was able to just push him out of my mind. I thought he was dead but —" 

"It was my job," Tasha interrupted.  

"I know," Patterson continued quickly. "I know. And then Jane and then there he was and I came into work, walked down the hallway, and there he was. No warning. Nothing. There he was." 

Tasha grabbed for Patterson’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She ran her thumb absently over her knuckles as she spoke. 

"Lemme ask something?" 

Patterson nodded.  

"Do you ever think about him? Talking to him, I mean?" 

The scientist hesitated for a moment as she considered this. She finally shrugged.  

"Maybe. I don't know if I’d want to, but I’ve thought about it." 

"What would you say? Do you know?" 

Patterson looked down at her hands and realized she hadn’t let go of Tasha and Tasha had made no effort to let go. She bit her lower lip as she watched Tasha’s thumb brushing over the back of her hand.  

"I’d tell him…I don't really know honestly," she confessed. "I guess I hadn’t thought about it that much. When I think about him, it’s rarely thoughtful. Just panic. Fear."  

Tasha shifted on the couch so was facing Patterson head on and let go of her hand. She straightened up and tried to put on a smug face as she adjusted an invisible tie.  

"I’m Borden. Tell me off," she said.  

"Tash." 

"I’m serious, Patterson," Tasha said, smoothing a hand over her pajamas. "Pretend I’m him. Better looking? Definitely, but pretend I’m him. What would you say to him?" 

Patterson looked down at her hands. When Tasha had let go of her, they’d dropped into her lap and they stayed there now. She cracked her knuckles slightly and then looked back up.  

"I dunno," she said doubtfully. "This feels dumb. I don’t know what to say." 

"Oh, come on, Patterson!" Tasha replied and then adopted a British accent. "Talk to me, Patterson." 

Patterson laughed and shook her head.  

"That is the worst accent I’ve ever heard," she said.  

"Don’t deflect," Tasha chided her and then put the accent back on, trying a little harder this time. She reached out beseechingly towards her friend. "Please, Patterson. I need to talk to you. Remember everything we had. I loved you. I’m not a monster. I never meant for any of this to happen. You have to believe me. I didn’t want to —" 

"Shut up shut up shut up shut up!" Patterson bellowed, shoving Tasha away and crossing her arms defensively across her chest. She shifted backwards on the couch, increasing the space between them. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest and she just needed it to slow down again. She closed her eyes briefly and let out a long breath. That wasn’t how she thought she’d react at all. "I’m sorry, Tasha. I didn’t...You sounded like him for a second there." 

Tasha shook her head. 

"It’s okay, Patterson," she said. "I was pushing your buttons. Trying to get a response. I guess I got one." 

Patterson took a few deep breaths and then dropped her arms, letting her hands fall back into her lap.

"Sorry. I can do this," she said. "Do it again." 

Tasha cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly.  

"You sure?" 

"Do it again," she insisted. 

Tasha shifted on the couch again and resumed her "Borden posture." She cleared her throat and tried again. 

"How are you, Patterson?" she asked softly in her best imitation of Borden. "Please, Patterson, talk to me. I deserve whatever you have to say. I did despicable things but I never meant to hurt you or cause you any —" 

"What  _did_  you mean, then, because I can’t figure it out?" Patterson replied suddenly. All the emotions she’d felt during Tasha’s first portrayal of Borden came flooding back to the surface. Instead of scooting away, though, she felt her anger rising. "You were going to kill me. She told you to, and you were going to do it so don’t give me this ‘never meant to hurt you’ bullshit. You meant to because she told you to. And I trusted you and  _loved_ you... it doesn’t matter. You don’t matter. You’re a criminal and you’re exactly where you belong. In prison. And you can think about all those ‘despicable' things forever. You don't get to talk to me or think about me or ask about me. I might have cared about you once but that was a mistake. I’m done. Done with mistakes, done with you. You don't scare me anymore. I won’t let you." 

Tasha didn't say anything and waited for Patterson to continue. The blonde aggressively wiped away a tear and then wiped her palms on her pant legs. She sniffed and then jabbed a finger at Tasha before her eyes seemed to focus on her face. Her hand fell back into her lap and the wave of anger receded.  

"Sorry," she said softly.  

Tasha shook her head.  

"Don’t be sorry," she said. "This is good." 

Patterson sighed again and fell backwards against the couch. She stared up at the ceiling.  

"What’s the point?" she asked but didn’t wait for Tasha’s response. "I don’t want to talk to him or think about him or anything with him. I need to move on." 

Tasha didn’t respond. She didn’t really know what to say. It was easy to say someone needed to move on, but it wasn’t always as easy to do. If it was easy, they wouldn’t be out on Long Island role-playing a conversation with Borden in the middle of the night.  

"Maybe I need therapy," Patterson said finally. "I can’t go on like this." 

"Like what?" 

Patterson sat back up and gestured vaguely around herself as if it should have been obvious.  

"Like this. Not sleeping, running to my best friend because I had a nightmare," she said. "I can’t keep calling you to come save me. It’s crazy." 

"You can call me anytime, Patterson, you know that," Tasha replied. "I don’t mind." 

There weren’t many people Tasha would answer the phone for after midnight and there were even fewer that she would get out of her warm bed and walk to the nearest subway stop for. She’d do just about anything for Patterson.  

"I know," Patterson said. "I just feel bad dragging you into this time and time again. You can’t tell me you enjoy getting frantic phone calls from me because I had a bad dream like a toddler." 

"You can call me anytime," Tasha repeated.  

Patterson smiled and looked away. She knew Tasha wasn’t just being polite. Her words were sincere and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Tasha wouldn’t say that to just anyone. In fact, Patterson wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard Tasha make such a generous offer to anyone else before.  

"Still," she began and trailed off. "I feel bad about it, but I call you and talk to you or you come by and I feel safe again. And I hate that. I really, really do. I hate that I have to call you to feel safe in my own apartment. But I do. Have to call you, I mean. You make me feel safe." She blew out a breath and shook her head, burying her face in her hands. "God that’s so lame sounding." 

"It’s not lame," Tasha said but felt her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.  

"It is!" Patterson said. "It’s like you’re my security blanket or something." 

"Is that your way of asking to cuddle?" Tasha teased and instantly regretted it. She got off the couch and grabbed the bottle of water from where she’d left it next to the armchair. Her own words had been slightly flirty and she knew they shouldn’t have been. Only 24 hours earlier they’d shared Patterson’s bed because of a series of violent nightmares and she'd woken up spooning her friend. Under very different circumstances, Tasha would have been more than okay with this, but Patterson wasn’t in a good place. It was not the time to flirt or insinuate anything. "Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that." 

Patterson watched as her friend paced the room and furrowed her brow in confusion. Maybe she’d been depending on Tasha too much and it was finally getting to her. She hadn’t intended to make her uncomfortable.  

"Hey," she called softly. "Could you stop that? I mean, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just, if you hadn’t come over the other night, I don’t think I would have gone back to sleep. You’ve been so amazing, and I don’t understand it but I feel better when I’m with you. I love you so much." 

Her words brought an abrupt halt to Tasha’s pacing and she turned slowly to face Patterson. She felt her grip on her water bottle start to loosen and she set it down on the nearest surface before she could drop it. There were two options here: play it off or go all in and confess to Patterson that her own feelings were more than platonic.  

"I’m glad I could be here for you," she said, opting for the safer choice. "I wish I could do more." 

Tasha made a move to return to the chair but Patterson was off the couch and grabbing both of her hands before she could even will her feet to move.  

"I know I’ve been a complete disaster lately, and I know that you keep picking up the pieces, but I mean it," she said, maintaining eye contact with Tasha. "I don’t know what I’d do without you right now. I’d probably still be on the floor of the lab sobbing. Thank you. I really do, ya know, that? I love you. I love you so much." 

Tasha forced a small smile and silently commanded her heart rate to return to its normal much more measured pace. It ignored her and raced on. 

"I love you, too, P," she said, trying to sound casual and absolutely not give away the gay panic that was surging through her. Patterson was still holding her hands and her eye contact was intense. "You’re my best friend. I’m always here." 

It happened so quickly Tasha wasn’t sure which one of them leaned forward first. She hoped it was Patterson, but she couldn’t be sure. Her brain had gone completely foggy when she finally processed those five little words, and nothing seemed real or made sense anymore. The one thing she was sure of was that those were Patterson’s lips pressed against her own and, yes, that was Patterson’s tongue lightly teasing the tip of her own. Every fiber of her being wanted to intensify the kiss, to wrap her arms around her friend’s waist, and guide her back to the couch or to one of the bedrooms but the fog lifted then and she realized what was happening. She was kissing Patterson, her friend. Her friend who had been dealing with what she could only describe as nightmares and panic attacks related to PTSD. Her friend, who had been depending on her so much and had just thrown her blind trust at her. They couldn’t do this no matter how badly Tasha’s body disagreed with her. She felt like she was taking advantage of her. 

Tasha broke their kiss and took a step backwards, pulling her hands free.  

"We can’t do this," she said breathlessly as her various body parts screamed at her to shut up and kiss her again. "I mean, I really want to, you have no idea how much I want to, but we can’t. You’re vulnerable and not thinking clearly and I don’t want to hurt you." 

Patterson stared at her wide-eyed for a minute and then looked away, her head dropping as she stared at the floor.  

"I’m sorry," she stammered. "I shouldn’t have. I didn’t think. I just thought that you’re... and... I’m sorry." 

"No, I mean, if the timing was different and this wasn’t all happening, trust me, I would not have just stopped you," Tasha confessed. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you and I don’t want to do that to you." 

"Sure," Patterson replied with a shrug. Her eyes darted across the room towards her bedroom door. "I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Breakfast, right?" 

Tasha nodded. 

"Right," she agreed. "It’s the most important meal of the day." 

Patterson walked quickly across the room and grabbed the doorknob to the guest room. She pushed the door open. 

"'Night Tasha," she said as she closed the door.  

Tasha heaved a sigh. She’d tried to be honorable but had just made a mess of it.  

"Goodnight Patterson," she replied quietly as she stared at the door. After a moment she gathered up her water and returned to the master bedroom. Maybe after sleeping, it wouldn’t seem so bad.  


	7. Chapter 7

Tasha wasn’t a morning person. She liked to sleep late and stay wrapped up in her blankets for as long as possible before even considering dragging herself out of bed to drink several very large cups of coffee. Eventually she’d stumble into her workout gear and go for her morning run. And some days she could convince herself the run was optional. Never the coffee. Coffee was essential. Life giving even. So when her eyes opened before 6 a.m. and she found herself wide awake and staring up at the ceiling, it was an anomaly.  

Sunlight streamed through the windows, but the cottage was silent; and she thought if she stayed there long enough and closed her eyes, she could trick her brain into going back to sleep. It was no good. She was awake and her mind was already working overtime. 

She shifted restlessly under the sheets, stretching and rubbing away the remnants of sleep from her eyes. The memory of the previous night was still fresh and her brain insisted on playing the interaction with Patterson over and over on a loop. Tasha sighed and clapped her hands over her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. Sleep hadn’t given her a new perspective. They’d kissed and she pushed Patterson away in a moment of panic, concern, and clear-headedness.  

Patterson was in a bad place. She was vulnerable and not thinking clearly. That much was obvious. The specter of Borden was already wreaking havoc on her mind, she didn’t need her friend taking advantage of her. They were best friends and Tasha would do anything to preserve that friendship. Nevertheless, she’d seen the hurt on Patterson’s face when she’d said "no," and now she kicked herself as she slowly dragged herself out of bed. She could have handled that better.  

Tasha hesitated at the closed bedroom door and said a silent prayer that she was the first one awake or at least the first out of the bedrooms. She swallowed hard and stepped into the kitchen, glancing to her left and noticing the guest room door was still closed. She let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and turned her attention to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

As she opened and closed cabinets in search of coffee grounds and filters, her mind drifted back to the previous night. She was certain pushing Patterson away had been the right thing to do, but it still felt shitty.  

_If things were different,_ she thought while filling the coffeemaker with water and switching it on.  

It wasn’t that she wasn’t attracted to Patterson. It was the opposite, really. Tasha had developed a small crush on her friend almost instantly upon their first meeting. What wasn’t to like? Patterson was beautiful and brilliant and one of the friendliest and kindest people Tasha had ever met. She even managed to somehow work alongside Rich Dotcom without killing him or requesting he get sent back to prison or perhaps to a padded room. Tasha wasn’t sure she would have been able to accomplish such a feat. There was no question she had feelings for the scientist, and ordinarily she would have leapt at an opportunity to be with her. But it wasn’t right. Not now. Not with everything that was going on and the way Patterson kept crumbling apart.  

Tasha poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it to the nearby couch. She settled into the worn cushions and stared out the window at the beach. It was high tide and waves were crashing loudly against the sand. Maybe she’d take a run later when she was more awake. 

There was something mesmerizing about the way the water ebbed away from the shore only to come crashing back on it a moment later. Cliché as it may seem, it felt very much the way the entire week had felt. Everything would calm down and then it would all come slamming back down again. Patterson would calm and settle, all thoughts of Borden would seemingly slip away, and then something would trigger an emotional tidal wave and Tasha would find herself with her arms wrapped around her friend, holding her tightly while she assured her that she was safe. She swore if she ever got her hands on Borden again, he’d suffer. She’d make him pay for every single second that Patterson spent crying or in fear because of what he put her through.  

Some of the blame rested at her own feet, too, Tasha realized. When Borden had been a CIA asset, she’d been his handler. She was partly to Blame for Patterson’s current state, and she hated herself for that. 

She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the waves and enjoying the solitude. It would only be a matter of time before Patterson would wake up, roused from sleep from the insistent sunlight pouring through the windows, the smell of coffee, and the sound of the waves. Tasha didn’t know what she would say to her or how the morning would go. She mentally steeled herself for whatever might happen. Patterson might wake up and act as if nothing had happened. She could also wake up and act cold and distant. Or, perhaps the worst option of them all, she might ask to go back to the city, cutting their weekend getaway short. Pushing away from Patterson was the right thing to do, but Tasha wasn’t sure Patterson would see it that way.  

"Hey," Patterson’s voice called softly, breaking through Tasha’s thoughts and the sound of the waves.  

Tasha opened her eyes and turned her head towards the kitchen. Patterson moved slowly from the guest room’s open door towards the coffee maker. She spotted the mug Tasha had left on the counter for her and poured herself a cup.  

"Hey," Tasha replied. She gestured towards the refrigerator. "Milk in the fridge and there should be sugar in the cabinet right in front of you." 

Patterson nodded and opened the cabinet. She pushed a few containers aside until she found a box of individual sugar packets tucked away near the back.  

"Thanks," she replied, tearing a small pile of packages open and dumping them into the mug before going to the refrigerator for milk.  

Tasha bit her bottom lip. Patterson had spoken two words so far which was not like her at all. They were opposites: Tasha loathed mornings while Patterson thrived on the order that starting a new day brought. She wondered if she ought to say something about the previous night and slowly got to her feet, carrying her now empty mug with her to the coffeemaker.  

Patterson met her at the counter and they stopped short, each making a move to allow the other to finish what they were doing. After a few exchanges of "go ahead," "no, you go," "no, really. Go ahead," Patterson finally smiled, poured milk into her coffee, snatched up her mug, and returned the milk jug to the refrigerator. Tasha poured a second cup and turned back towards the couch to find her friend leaning against a counter and watching her calmly. 

"About last night," Patterson began and shook her head slightly. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —" 

"No, I’m sorry, P," Tasha interrupted. "I just, I don’t want to take advantage of you and I could have handled it better but I panicked and was trying to do the right thing and... and I’m so sorry." 

Patterson shook her head more fervently and pushed herself away from the counter.  

"No, no, really, it’s me," she said. "I sorta forced myself on you and I shouldn’t have. I’ve been such a mess and I’m just sorry. You’ve been here for me this whole time and you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna make things weird." 

Tasha smiled. 

"Impossible," she said and went to the couch to sit again. Her stomach gave a quiet rumble, announcing its presence. She’d woken up enough that her body was going to start demanding food soon. "Anyway, forget about it. I freaked out a little bit because you’re in such a bad place and it’s you and it’s me and ya know what? Let’s just forget it happened." 

Patterson didn’t say anything as she sat in the chair opposite the couch. She pulled her feet up off the floor and curled into the seat as she followed Tasha’s gaze to the beach. She sipped her coffee quietly.  

"What’d you mean? ‘It’s you and it’s me’?" she asked finally. 

Tasha swallowed her coffee quickly and looked back at her friend.  

"Just what I said. ‘It’s you and it’s me.’ It’s probably not great to confuse things." 

"Right," Patterson said flatly and took another sip of her coffee. She held the hot liquid in her mouth for a minute before swallowing it down hard and taking another sip. She said suddenly, "I’m not confused."  

Tasha set her coffee mug down on the floor and swiveled out of her lounging position on the couch. She faced Patterson and crossed her legs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She sighed.  

"I know, sweetie, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel things for you," she said and continued on quickly. "But you’re vulnerable. You’re battling this thing with Borden and, you said it yourself, you’ve been depending on me. You trust me. It’s not right. Not now. If after all this blows over and you’re back to yourself and you still... maybe... but I can’t do that to you now. I love you so much. You’re my favorite person, but It’s not right." 

Patterson bit her lip and looked away. What Tasha was saying made sense. She wasn’t even entirely sure what she wanted, but she knew that being with Tasha was comforting. Her words, her hugs, her simple presence. It was everything she could want from someone. But she wasn’t hurting right now. She was with Tasha and everything seemed okay again. She fleetingly wondered if Tasha was right.  

_Maybe I’m just not thinking clearly_ , she thought.  

That would also make sense. After everything that had gone on - her lack of sleep, the nightmares, the sudden complete and total emotional breakdowns – Patterson wasn’t sure how much she could trust her mind. But she knew what she felt. She blew out a slow breath and scrubbed a hand over her face.  

"Breakfast?" she asked, changing the subject.  

Tasha brightened slightly and smiled.  

"Yes. Please. I’m starving," she confessed as her stomach gave a loud rumble almost as if on cue.  

***  

The diner they’d chosen for breakfast wasn’t far from the cottage. In fact, the walk to the restaurant had seemed quick, taking less than 10 minutes to go door-to-door. Walking back, however, was a different story. Patterson felt like she could go back to sleep or collapse face-first into the sand. The giant eggs and pancakes meal that looked and tasted so good left her feeling lethargic as she walked along beside Tasha. Eating too much seemed to be the theme of the weekend.  

"How far do the waves come up on the beach?" she asked suddenly, her gaze fixed firmly on the sand in front of her. 

Tasha furrowed her brow and shook her head.  

"No idea," she said. "Why?" 

"If I just fall over here and lapse into a food coma, think I’ll drown?" 

Tasha laughed. 

"Not immediately." She gestured to the expanse of sand ahead. The cottage was a few hundred yards away. "It’s not that much farther. Then you can fall over somewhere safe." 

Patterson hmmed and trudged through the sand. She was tired and sluggish, weighed down by one too many pieces of bacon, but despite everything she felt pretty good. The awkwardness she feared would settle between her and her friend hadn’t been there. She wasn’t entirely sure if what she was feeling for Tasha was real or manufactured because of the circumstances, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized her emotions were running hot. Everything was intensified and she was viewing everything as if through a magnifying glass. 

Whatever her feelings for Tasha, she’d been right in bringing her to Long Island. Patterson was relaxed. For the first time in days, she’d slept through the night and if she’d dreamed at all, she didn’t remember it. It felt good. Almost as if the past week had never happened.  

"Have I thanked you for bringing me out here?" she asked as Tasha made a slight turn away from the shoreline towards the cottage. 

"Maybe once or twice," Tasha replied with a wink.  

"Well, I mean it," Patterson continued. "I actually feel normal, whatever that means. I really needed this. I mean, I dunno what I’ll be like when we get back and back to work but right now? Right now, I feel pretty good." 

"A full night’s sleep will do that," Tasha teased, nudging Patterson gently with her shoulder.  

Patterson laughed as they climbed the steps leading from the beach to the cottage’s small wooden deck. She sat in one of the patio chairs and took in their surroundings as if seeing them for the first time.  

"Yeah, sleep was good," she agreed. "I actually slept all night. But I mean, all of this has been great. I sorta wish we could stay here forever." 

Tasha nodded and sat down in the other empty chair. She leaned an elbow on the table between them and rested her chin in her hand.  

"Yeah, that’d be nice," she said wistfully.  

"I know we have to go back tomorrow but..." Patterson said and trailed off. She leaned back in her chair and enjoyed the feeling of the sun warming her skin. "This is good. Really good." 

"Yeah." 

"Yeah." 

They fell into a companionable silence as they each got lost in their own thoughts. Patterson briefly wondered what it might be like to return to the lab on Monday. At that moment, it was almost hard to believe that less than 48 hours earlier she’d been in a puddle on the floor, in the grips of a panic attack. It all seemed so far away now. Patterson closed her eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of the waves on the sand and opened them only when Tasha spoke again. 

"Beach?" 

*** 

She hated to end their weekend so soon, but it seemed like the cottage had served its purpose: Patterson was back to her normal self, laughing and joking. It'd been two days since her last full-blown panic attack, but Tasha wasn’t naïve. Patterson wasn’t cured. It did seem like her head was in a better place, and she held onto a glimmer of hope that her friend might be better able to move forward now that she was seeing things more clearly without the looming threat of a complete breakdown. Tasha hoped it wasn’t just the change of scenery bringing about Patterson’s semi-restored mental health. 

Tasha hated to think about leaving. If they didn’t leave Long Island soon, they’d get caught in the rush of traffic heading back into the city. There really wasn’t a great time to leave. Traffic would suck no matter what time they left, but it might suck a little less if they left now. She hefted her bag into the trunk and turned back to the cottage expecting to see Patterson coming through the front door with her own bag. After waiting for a few moments, Tasha sighed and closed the trunk. 

"Patterson?" Tasha called as she reentered the cottage and looked around. "Patterson?" 

The living room and kitchen were both empty but the door to the guest room was open and she headed towards it. Patterson was sitting on the bed, staring vacantly at the wall with her bag set beside her. Tasha stood in the doorway and watched her for a minute before going and sitting beside her. "Hey. You okay?"  

Patterson glanced at Tasha from the corner of her eye and didn’t reply. She’d started to pack up from their weekend when the reality of it all hit her. Her escape was over and she had to go back home where everything would still be waiting for her. On one hand, Patterson knew she couldn’t just sit there and avoid her home forever. She needed to go home, back to work, and start getting on with her life. Maybe it was time to speak to a therapist. She’d said it in half-seriousness to Tasha earlier in the weekend, but it sounded like a good idea. She was no expert, but she could be suffering from PTSD. She'd been through a lot over the last few years. She licked her lips and swallowed hard.  

"I don’t know," she admitted after a few minutes. "It’s real now. I had this little getaway and everything felt good. I felt good. And now I have to go back and I don’t know. I don’t know what’s waiting for me." 

Tasha didn’t say anything. There were only so many ways to say "I know" and "it’s okay" before they just sounded like empty platitudes. She picked up Patterson’s bag, set it on the floor at her feet, and reached for her friend’s hand.  

"This is stupid," Patterson said softly. "I was fine earlier. The beach and the games... I know I have to go home. The lab? Rich has probably messed it all up. I know I have to go back. I just don’t know..." 

Tasha smiled faintly. She had an idea. 

"He probably reassigned everyone and moved your computer and monitors," she said seriously as she crossed her legs and met Patterson’s eyes. "You were gone Friday afternoon, so Rich probably became lead tech on any cases that came in." 

Patterson’s eyes went wide and she set her jaw. She shook her head.  

"He probably did!" she said. "Ugh. I’ll have to go behind him and do everything all over again. Why does he do that? And he’s been talking about moving the centrifuge, and can’t he just leave things alone and do them the way I want them done? The right way? Stupid Rich. I have a system! Why does he have to mess with my system? Why would he move the centrifuge?" 

She got up from the bed and reached for the handle of her bag, slinging it over the mattress and dropping it back down with a slight bounce. Patterson turned to the bedside table and grabbed a few items and shoved them inside the bag. 

"You know what the worst part is?" she continued as she folded her still slightly damp beach towel and jammed it into the bag. "He thinks his way is the right way to do it. Not that, I dunno, I haven’t been doing this  _for years_  and know what I’m doing. I’m not just some dark web weirdo with a superiority complex." 

Patterson zipped her bag closed and hefted it up to her shoulder. She started towards the door leading to the rest of the cottage and glanced back at Tasha. 

"Are you coming?" 

"Yes, ma’am," Tasha replied, biting back her smile and getting back up. It’d been just a bit on the under-handed side, but her idea worked. She knew which buttons she could push with Patterson and she’d pressed them just right. Patterson had temporarily forgotten why she’d been sitting on the bed and was distracted by the prospect of returning to the NYO and finding herself smack in the middle of the Rich Dotcom FBI Funhouse. She chuckled to herself and flipped the light switch to the off position. "You sure you have everything?" 

Patterson was already through the front door and heading towards the car, her bag swinging in her hand as she moved quickly down the front steps. Tasha watched her go for a moment before taking a final look around. They’d picked up from the weekend, and she made a mental note to replace everything they’d used and thank Jess profusely for making sure they were so well taken care of. Not every ex would have done that.  

She locked the front door and stashed the key where she found it before joining Patterson at the car. Maybe they’d make it back to the city with minimal traffic after all.  


	8. Chapter 8

Tasha felt like she hadn’t slept all night and she supposed that was close enough to the truth. They’d returned to the city from Long Island after being stuck in traffic for more than three hours, and Tasha was exhausted. She’d tossed her weekend bag on the floor of her closet, kicked out of her jeans, and fallen into bed. Onto bed was probably a more accurate description – she hadn’t bothered to pull back the covers but had just tumbled face first into the pillows. She should have fallen asleep immediately. Instead she tossed and turned for a while listening to her stomach grumble from the lack of food. It was early enough that she should have eaten dinner, but exhaustion had overruled her hunger. Hunger was winning out now. Eventually, she hauled herself out of bed and searched her kitchen for something edible, settling on a container of leftover Thai food she couldn’t remember ordering but still smelled okay.  

Stomach appeased, Tasha returned to her bedroom and traded what remained of the day’s outfit for a faded t-shirt from her time with the NYPD. She fished her toothbrush from her bag, cleaned up, and returned to the comfort of her bed.  

She stared at the ceiling for a long time before forcing herself to close her eyes and roll onto her side so she was facing a blank wall. Sleep eluded her. Instead she found herself crawling the length of her bed, stretching over its edge, and grabbing for her jeans. She fumbled her phone from a back pocket and checked the screen. No notifications. Tasha sighed and returned to her spot on the bed, setting her phone on a bedside table. A few minutes later she reached for it again and turned the screen back on. Still no notifications.  

Tasha might have dozed off at some point. She couldn’t be sure – the night had seemed to stretch on forever and as she leaned against the brick of Patterson’s building, she felt like she hadn’t slept in days. The dark sunglasses she’d donned before leaving her apartment hid the dark circles under her eyes. During the night, she’d checked her phone no less than two dozen times. Each time she expected it to ring or to find a text from her friend, asking her to come over. The call and text never came.  

She should have been glad that Patterson hadn’t called. That meant she’d made it through the night without a panic attack two nights in a row. Still, Tasha expected it and... was that disappointment she was feeling?  

Ridiculous. Patterson had spent a worry-free night in her own apartment. Alone. Without needing to phone a friend for moral support. Tasha should have been happy for her. And she was. Definitely. Most certainly, 100% happy for Patterson. Did she like being the person Patterson called when she needed someone? Yes. Absolutely. When it came to Patterson, Tasha couldn’t ignore the urge to protect her no matter the costs. She should have been glad that Patterson didn’t need her but it wasn’t exactly happiness she was feeling and she felt terrible about that.  

Tasha sipped at her coffee and set a second cup on the ground at her feet while she fished her phone out of her pocket. She quickly tapped out a text to Patterson. 

**Everything okay? You leaving for work soon?**  

The response was almost instant and Tasha stopped shoving her phone back in her pocket, taking it back out and looking.  

**Yeah. I’m good. Walking out the door right now.**  

"Right now" was a literal statement. Tasha didn’t even have the chance to reply. Patterson pushed through the door of her building and turned left, nearly banging into the waiting agent.  

"Ohmygod," Patterson breathed, jumping back and clutching a hand to her chest. "I was  _not_ expecting you there." 

Tasha blushed slightly and glanced down at the coffee cup at her feet. It was still standing and she snatched it up and held it out to Patterson. 

"I brought coffee," she offered lamely. "I didn’t hear from you last night and I just thought I’d meet you and we could go into work together. You know. Just in case." 

Patterson accepted the cup and tasted it. Tasha ordered her coffee perfectly.  

"Thanks!" she said cheerfully as they began walking towards the subway stop a block away.  

"You slept last night?" Tasha asked.  

"So good," Patterson admitted. "I got home and just fell into bed. I think I slept for like 12 hours."  

Tasha hmmed and nodded.  

"Good. You needed it." 

"Yeah. Definitely," Patterson agreed, taking another sip of her coffee as they rounded the block towards the closest subway stop. She glanced at Tasha and said suddenly, "Hey, I, uh, I know what you did." 

Tasha choked on her coffee, spitting out the mouthful she’d just taken and a series of violent coughs racked through her. She thumped the side of her fist against her chest as her mind raced and she tried to figure out what she could have done. 

"What I did?" she asked when her coughing was finally under control. "What did I do? What do you mean?" 

"Rich," Patterson said simply as they descended the stairs into the station. "You said he probably messed up the lab and reassigned everyone." When clarity didn’t seem to come across Tasha’s face she continued. "You distracted me so I’d finish packing and go home. And it worked." 

"Oh," Tasha said and gave a single nod. "Yeah. Sorry about that." 

Patterson shook her head and leaned against a post on the subway platform.  

"Don’t be sorry," she said. "It worked. But I swear to god, if I get to work and Rich  _has_  rearranged things, I’m going to kill him." 

*** 

Reade was watching the elevator doors open and close for about fifteen minutes. He had one eye on the stack of paperwork he was filling out – letting a terrorist and former CIA asset out of prison to visit the FBI had a surprisingly large amount of paperwork attached to it – but he’d mostly been waiting for Tasha and Patterson to return to the NYO.  

After Tasha had stormed out of their conversation only days earlier, he’d been waiting for their return. He knew he could have handled the Borden situation better but there was nothing he could do about it now. Nothing, that is, except warn Patterson that Borden was returning to the NYO to talk to Jane again today before Tasha found out and screamed at him again.  

He heard the elevator ding and he focused on the sliding doors, spotting the two agents stepping into the hallway. Reade was out of his chair, pushing through his office door, and at the elevator before the duo made it more than five feet into SIOC. 

"Welcome back," he said and grinned. He gestured towards his office with his head. "Can we talk for a minute?" 

Patterson cocked an eyebrow and threw a suspicious look at Tasha who raised both hands in a sign of surrender and shook her head.  

"No idea," she said.  

"Just a minute?" Reade pleaded as he held his door open. "Both of you?" 

Tasha shrugged and followed Patterson into the office. She stopped just inside the door and turned to face Reade. 

"What’s this about?" she asked quietly so that Patterson wouldn’t hear. 

Reade pointed towards the chairs in front of his desk.  

"Sit? Please?" 

Tasha didn’t move.  

"Tasha," he said seriously, exasperation thick in his voice. "Please? Sit." 

Tasha crossed her arms over her chest and glanced over at Patterson who was sitting down, her head turned towards them as she strained to overhear their conversation.  

"Fine," she said curtly and headed towards the other chair. She sat down heavily and crossed her legs, angling her body so she could see Patterson’s face at all times. 

Reade stood in the doorway for a moment before moving to his own chair on the other side of the desk. He sat and picked up his pen, fidgeted for a second, and then set it back down on his stack of paperwork. He ignored Tasha’s glare and instead looked only at Patterson.  

"How are you, Patterson?" he asked.  

The agent shrugged slightly.  

"Okay, I guess," she replied.  

"You’re okay to be back?" 

"I’m here, aren’t I?"  

Reade didn’t respond immediately. He thought going the concerned friend and boss route might work but it only seemed to irritate her. He folded his hands and leaned slightly forward on his desk.  

"Good. We missed you," he said, seeming to not really know what to say. "So... Borden’s going to be here again today." 

Tasha nearly jumped out of her chair. She put both palms down on the top of Reade’s desk and leaned towards him.  

"What?" she yelled, her temper flaring. "What the actual fuck, Reade? You could have told me before. You keep pulling bullshit and this is getting —" 

"Tash," Patterson interrupted quietly. She stood and put a hand on Tasha’s arm. "It’s okay. Sit down."  

The Latina looked at Patterson in surprise and then seemed to collect herself. She sat back down, crossed her legs again, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and turned her attention to Patterson. She refused to look at Reade.  

Patterson licked her lips and looked out into SIOC. She spotted Rich heading into the lab followed by Briana and Afreen. She looked back to Reade.  

"Okay. So, he’s here. Again," she said flatly as she gripped the edges of the chair’s arms.  

"He’s here to see Jane," Reade said. "I wanted to tell you before you found out like on Friday." 

Patterson nodded.  

"Okay," she repeated. "Message received." 

Reade looked from Patterson to Tasha and back to Patterson again.  

"Are you okay with this?" he asked finally. "I mean, if you wanna leave or —" 

"No. It’s okay. I’m okay," Patterson said, cutting him off. She paused, and relaxed her grip on the chair, waiting for him to say more. "Is there something else?" 

"You’re sure you’re okay with this?" 

"Patterson?" Tasha ventured. "You don’t have to be okay with this." 

"Is there something else?" Patterson asked again but Reade didn’t reply. She got out of her chair and jabbed a thumb in the direction of the lab. "I have work to do." 

Tasha and Reade watched as Patterson shoved the office door open. She turned purposefully in the direction of the locker room and disappeared from view. Reade took a deep breath and began counting down silently in his head.  

"Jesus Christ, Reade," Tasha said bitterly. Patterson’s calm response had taken the fight out of her. Now she stood up and put her hands on her hips. Her tone was level and calm. "Is it too much to ask that you just text me before we get here? ‘Hey Zapata, Borden’s here again.’ Is it that hard?" 

*** 

She wasn’t sure if the stack of paperwork on her desk was punishment for cutting out of work on Friday with Patterson or for nearly punching Reade in the face on her way out, but it was a large stack. While the rest of the team had been assigned to cases, Tasha was stuck sitting with a pen in her hand, looking from her computer screen and back to the papers, confirming data. She tried her best to internalize her complaints, keeping her grumbles non-vocal but she wasn’t sure she was succeeding. Three agents who had been heading in her direction made a wide circle around her workstation.  

Tasha flicked her pen quickly across the bottom of one page, her signature a scrawled mess that looked nothing like her name, and she added the page to the smaller stack of completed documents at the corner of her desk.  

"Hey," a familiar voice came breathlessly and Tasha looked up to see Patterson dragging a chair across the floor and sitting down next to her. She set a steaming paper cup of coffee in front of Tasha. "Got a minute?" 

Tasha smiled. Patterson’s presence was a relief and a welcome, much-needed distraction. She’d never been so happy to see anyone before in her life. It absolutely didn’t hurt that she’d come bearing coffee. 

"Oh god, yes. My savior," she said, letting her pen fall from her hand as she pushed away from her desk slightly and grabbed for the coffee cup. "What’s up? Everything okay?" 

Patterson eyed the stack of paperwork and shook her head slightly. 

"That’s... an enormous amount of paperwork," she observed. "Is that because of Friday?" 

Tasha frowned behind the coffee cup. She was certain it was because of Friday and how close she’d come to punching Reade, but she wouldn’t let Patterson know that.  

"Doesn’t matter," she replied dismissively and set the cup back down. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What’s up?" 

The scientist reached for the page Tasha had just discarded and looked at it carefully. She glanced back at Tasha and then returned the paper to the stack.  

"It  _is_ because of Friday," she said. "I’m sorry, Tash. I’m such a mess and you got stuck on paperwork duty because —" 

"Don’t worry about it. It's a million degrees outside and I get to be inside in the air conditioning," Tasha said. "Now, what’s going on? I know you didn’t come over here just to view the Mt. Everest of paperwork. Come on, what’s up?" 

Patterson leaned back in the hard-backed chair she’d stolen from a nearby unoccupied desk and tossed a look towards the hallway leading to the interrogation rooms. She then turned and looked towards the lab. 

"Patterson?" Tasha tried, following her gaze. 

"Sorry," she said. "I just... do you have time today? I mean, I know you’ve done so much already and that is the single largest stack of paperwork I’ve ever seen, but I need to do it and I don’t think I can do it by myself." 

Tasha was shaking her head. She furrowed her brow in confusion and looked back towards the hallway and lab, looking for some kind of clue what her friend was talking about.  

"Do what?" 

"I wanna talk to him." 

*** 

Borden was cuffed to a table in the interrogation room waiting for Jane. He’d initially been a somewhat unwilling participant in her therapy sessions but had eventually come around. Sitting in the FBI’s interrogation room was still better than being in prison, plus there was the added chance he might get to speak with or at least see Patterson.  

Now he sat at the table, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped in front of him. Someone had brought him a Styrofoam cup, most likely filled with tea. Aside from the federal-issued prison jumpsuit and the handcuffs, Robert Borden looked almost exactly the way he did the last time Patterson had seen him.  

She stood in the neighboring observation room, leaning forward towards the one-way glass window, her palms flat against the small counter that housed the controls for the interrogation room’s recording devices. Several small surveillance screens captured Borden’s image from every angle and her finger hesitated near a switch that would allow the room’s audio to be broadcast into the observation area. If she pressed it, Patterson would hear every breath he took. If she didn’t press it, she could continue to pretend that he wasn’t really there.  

Tasha sat in one of the chairs, her eyes never leaving Borden as she tracked his every movement through the glass. With his wrists cuffed, there wasn’t much movement, but she watched nevertheless. She wanted to look up at Patterson who hovered over her, but didn’t dare. Her friend was quiet and the sound of her breathing was steady and calm. Tasha worried if she shifted around to check on her, she’d break the spell.  

Patterson slowly sat down in the chair next to Tasha, never looking away from the glass. She stared at Borden for a long minute before finally turning her head to look at the agent next to her. Tasha sensed Patterson’s eyes on her and turned to look at her. Patterson was biting her lower lip, her brow furrowed.  

"You don’t have to do this," Tasha told her quietly. "Any of this. Really, Patterson. You don’t have to." 

"Yes, I do," Patterson replied. She swallowed hard and licked her lips. "I had the chance to talk to him before, and I didn’t. I wouldn’t." She saw the confused look on Tasha’s face and explained. "After the Dragonfly tattoo... Jane asked if I wanted to talk to him. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I told her that I pitied him because I had something he didn’t. A future. But that didn’t do shit for me. Here we are. You know. I don’t hafta tell you. You’ve seen..." 

Tasha didn’t reply. She knew what Patterson meant. She’d refused to speak to him last time, rising above him, and assuring herself that he had no control over her anymore. It turned out that was untrue. The minute he showed up in her life again, she’d lost control of everything. She couldn’t let history repeat itself.  

"You’re sure?" she asked finally.  

Patterson nodded and took a deep shuddery breath before wiping at her eyes with a single finger, surprised when it came away damp. Her eyes had started to fill with tears and she blinked them away.  

"Yeah," she said and straightened in her chair. "I’m sure." 

Tasha reached a hand over and grabbed for Patterson’s. She gave it a reassuring squeeze as the blonde stood up and headed towards the door leading into Interrogation.  

Patterson blew out another breath and nodded to herself.  

"I’m sure." 

Tasha watched as Patterson stepped confidently through the door and into the interrogation room. The scientist stood just inside the door for a beat, waiting. Borden looked up from his cup at the sound of the door and froze with the cup halfway to his mouth. Tasha reached out and toggled the audio switch. 

"Patterson." Borden’s voice filled the room. "How-how are you? I didn’t expect —" 

"Shut up," Patterson said coldly, and Tasha watched as her friend strode quickly across the interrogation room towards an empty chair opposite Borden. "You don’t get to say things to me anymore."  

The agent sat down and for a brief moment she seemed conflicted between sitting as far away from her one-time boyfriend/kidnapper/torturer as possible and sitting close enough that she could speak quietly and there’d be no chance he’d miss her words. She quickly settled on a casual posture and fixed Borden with a disinterested look.  

"I’m sorry," Borden said and his apology actually sounded sincere. Then he saw the look Patterson threw at him and he abruptly fell silent again. He’d been wanting to speak to Patterson for more than two years and had been denied repeatedly. Now she was sitting just feet away from him and he’d never even asked to see her. In his time as a CIA pawn and now as a federal inmate, he’d learned sometimes it was best to just say nothing so he waited for her to start talking again.  

"I don’t want to hear anything from you," Patterson said quietly and then seemed to realize that her voice had lost its authority, its edge, and she cleared her throat, crossed her legs and observed him. "I have something I need to say and you will listen. That’s all."  

She paused to let him respond.  

Borden nodded eagerly and gave her a placating gesture the best he could with a chain between his hands and attaching him to the table top.  

"Of course." 

Patterson glanced up at one of the cameras and took another deep breath. From her place in the control room, Tasha met Patterson’s eyes and took a deep breath along with her. She didn’t know what was coming and was prepared to run into the room and pull her friend out of there if necessary.  

"You destroyed me," Patterson admitted, looking back at Borden. "I thought I could get over it. All the awful things you did to me. The lies, the torture, the... you kidnapped me. You tried to kill me. I thought if you were dead, I could move on. Everything would be okay and I could move on. That was stupid. I’ll never get over it." 

"Patterson," Borden tried again.  

"No, stop talking," Patterson said again. "I won’t get over it and that’s okay. Because it was awful, okay? I know that. You destroyed me and I’ll never get over it but something good came from this. I know the people who care about me now. I see them and I can separate out the liars from the people who actually care. The people standing behind me care about me, and maybe they’re misguided sometimes but they care about me and they do everything they can to protect me." She paused to take another deep breath. She met Borden’s eyes and continued on. "You told me that you loved me. You came into my life, into my home, and I was stupid. I believed you. But you know what? You don’t treat people you love the way you treated me. You should drop everything for them, be there for them, and not just because you’re keeping tabs on them for your terrorist boss. When the person you love is falling apart, you should be there to pick up the pieces but you shouldn’t be the one who makes them fall apart." 

Tasha felt butterflies take flight in her stomach at Patterson’s words. She maybe wasn’t using her name or any specifics at all, but Tasha was certain Patterson was talking about her. Tasha  _did_ love Patterson. They were friends and Tasha had always hoped that maybe one day there’d be more to it than that. After their weekend in Long Island, though, she figured the odds were in her favor. She subconsciously wiped her palms on her pants and leaned in closer to the one-way glass. 

"I think you got exactly what you deserved," Patterson said. She continued to stare unflinchingly at Borden. "When I thought you were dead, I was angry. I wanted you to suffer like the way you made me suffer. Death was too good, too easy for you. I want you to live a long time. I want you to live with your guilt, if you even have any —" 

"I do, Patterson. I’m so sorry for —" 

"No," Patterson replied again, shaking her head and pointing an index finger in his face. "i don't care if you’re sorry." 

Borden licked his lips and looked down at his hands clasped on the table in front of him. He waited for Patterson to keep talking and when she didn’t, he tried again.  

"You were broken," Borden said quietly. He couldn’t meet her eyes. "Who helped you put the pieces back together again? Do you love them?" 

Patterson glanced at a camera again. She couldn't see her, but she knew Tasha was still there and listening to every word. She got up out of her chair and began walking back towards the door to the observation room but stopped alongside the table and waited for Borden to look back up at her.  

"You’ll never know. You don’t _get_ to know," she said and started towards the door again. Patterson stopped just as it opened and turned back to him again. Borden had turned in his chair as much as he could and was watching her. "That person? They're 10 million times the person you’ll ever be, than you could  _ever be."_  

She said nothing else and stepped across the threshold and out of the room. 


	9. Chapter 9

Patterson settled onto her couch, shifting around and moving throw pillows out of her way until she found the sweet spot. She leaned back into it and brought a glass of bourbon to her lips, sipping the amber liquid as she thought about her conversation, albeit one-way, with Borden.  

After she left the interrogation room, she found Tasha still sitting at the control panel. Patterson smiled at her and reassured her that she was okay but then proceeded directly to the locker room where she gathered up her jacket and purse. She texted Reade on her way out to tell him that she wasn’t feeling well and was taking the rest of the day off. It wasn’t a complete lie. Her stomach had flipped repeatedly while she spoke to Borden. Now she sat on her couch, bourbon in hand, and considered the game controller that blinked in its charger. She’d beaten the last new game she bought right before the whole mess with Borden had kicked off, and she didn’t know what to play. Instead she reached for her cell phone and began scrolling absent-mindedly through her social media feeds.  

The mindlessness of scrolling allowed her thoughts to wander and Patterson found herself thinking about her first interaction with Robert Borden in, well, she wasn’t quite sure how long it had been. Not knowing was probably for the best; one less thing to fixate on. She took another sip of her bourbon as she scrolled her screen with her thumb. It was strange how calm and relaxed she felt. When she dragged a chair over to sit next to Tasha and her mountain of paperwork, announcing her intention to talk to Borden had made her queasy. At that moment she was sure she’d walk into the interrogation room and either A) run away or B) throw up all over him. She’d done neither. Instead she’d walked out of the room as if nothing had happened. Her pulse wasn’t racing and her blood pressure wasn’t sky-high. She was even able to breathe normally.  

If everything was okay, why had she gone straight to her locker and then to the first train to take her home? Simple. People would want to talk to her about her conversation with Borden. Reade would call her to his office, sit her down, and ask if she wanted to talk, and Rich would slide up next to her in the lab and start babbling inanely in an effort to get her to open up. Patterson didn’t really want to talk about Borden anymore. At all. To anyone.  

Maybe she’d talk to Tasha. Maybe. But Tasha hadn’t said anything when she came out of the interrogation room, and Patterson quickly told her everything was fine before heading to her locker. Tasha must have been summoned to Reade’s office, though, because Patterson saw her standing in front of his desk with her arms crossed and a frown on her face as she’d made her way to the elevator. She hoped Reade was pulling her off paperwork duty and sending her out into the field. Tasha shouldn’t be stuck behind a desk signing forms when she was one of the best agents at the NYO. Plus it was time for Tasha to get back to doing her job and not babysitting her.  

It was good, Patterson reasoned. Tasha should be back at her normal job. She needed that. And, quite frankly, so did Patterson. And she was getting there. Patterson was confident that she was on her way to being back to business as usual.  

There was a time when Patterson had never missed a day of work. She rarely left early and she definitely never melted down on the floor of the lab before. It was crazy how quickly things had changed. In the last week alone, she’d left work early almost every single day. What was crazier, she realized, was how quickly she’d been able to bounce back almost completely. Just one week earlier, Tasha had found her at her desk going through Borden’s files and they’d gone to her place for drinks and a lot of talking and tears. She’d called her dad and finally Tasha whisked her away for a weekend far away from all of this. After that night in the cottage, Patterson had gone to the guest room and stared into the darkness for a long time. She realized then that she’d never felt closer to Tasha, and even though her friend had shot her down, Tasha was the only reason she’d made it through to the other side.  

That night, that  _moment_ , in the cottage. She replayed it over and over in her mind and each time the same pang of regret hit her. She should never have kissed Tasha like that. It wasn’t that Patterson didn’t want to kiss Tasha. She did. Tasha was her best friend and she’d never felt so safe and secure with anyone else before. Not with David and not with Borden who, before he tried to kill her, had been a terrific boyfriend. Patterson didn’t really know what to do with her feelings for Tasha, they’d moved beyond those of friendship the moment she’d kissed her, but they were there demanding that she do something with them. File them somewhere, categorize them, something. But maybe Tasha was right: their timing was wrong. Patterson was so deep inside her own head and her emotions were so jumbled, running high, that maybe she’d just been reaching out to Tasha as a lifeline.  

_No_ , Patterson decided instantly. It wasn’t that at all. There were feelings there. They were real and not just a byproduct of the stress she was under.  

She absently closed out her Facebook app and switched to her last text with Tasha.  

**Come over after you get off. Drinks and Thai?**  

Tasha’s response came much quicker than she expected. She’d assumed that her friend was out in the field and wouldn’t be able to respond for a while. The speed of her response only meant one thing: there were still at least three hours before Tasha would be free from the mountain of paperwork awaiting her signature.  

**Drinks for sure. Today is** **killing** **.**  

**…**  

**Everything okay? You left early.**  

Patterson hesitated before replying. Nothing was wrong, but it was definitely an explanation that wouldn’t translate well over text.  

**Yeah. It was just easier. I’ll explain when you come by later. Text me when you’re on the way and I’ll order.**  

Tasha replied with a thumbs up emoji and Patterson set her phone back down. She surveyed her apartment. She hadn’t spent much time there lately but it wasn’t as neat as she’d like it to be. There were still a few hours before Tasha would appear at her front door and Patterson got to work picking up and cleaning her perceived mess. 

*** 

Despite her mad cleaning spree, which she realized afterwards was mostly unnecessary, Patterson wasn't at all nervous about having dinner with Tasha. They’ve sat on her couch dozens of times before with various containers of takeout and alcohol. Still, Patterson has stood in front of her open closet door for much longer than she normally would before finally selecting a pair of jeans and a blouse she liked to wear to work but had discovered the sleeves were just too billowing for lab work. She wasn’t sure why she cared so much about what she looked like – Tasha was coming over for takeout and beer as a thank you for being so freaking amazing over the last week. Nevertheless, Patterson smoothed a hand over her hair and then brushed some imaginary lint off her shoulders before surveying her apartment one more time for anything that might be out of place.  

There was a sharp rap on her door but before she could turn and answer it, Tasha was pushing it open with her shoulder. She was balancing two six packs of beer, one on top of the other, and had one hand on the doorknob. She grinned over the cases.  

"Hey, sorry to break in but I'm gonna drop this," she said as she set the cases down on the coffee table. "I’d say it was buy one, get one free, but..." 

Patterson met Tasha in the living room and grabbed for one of the cases. She carried it to the kitchen and shoved it in the fridge, taking two bottles from the case Tasha carried and then stepping aside so her friend could add her case to the refrigerator. 

"Can never have enough," Patterson agreed. She grabbed the bottle opener and popped her bottle open, passing the church key to Tasha and heading back towards the couch. "You ever get off paperwork duty today?" she called over her shoulder. 

Tasha sighed. 

"No," she admitted and flopped down next to Patterson, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "Reade called me in to see what happened with you and Borden and then sent me right back to the stack of crap that had nothing to do with me. Punishment for sure." 

Patteson took a pull from her beer and was about to respond when she heard the buzzer for the building’s front door. She exchanged a knowing look with Tasha and jumped up to buzz the delivery guy in. A few minutes later she was accepting a large bag full of Thai food.  

"Jesus, Patterson," Tasha said as she helped unload the containers. "How many people did you think you were feeding?" 

"Says the woman who showed up with two six packs to match the two I told you I already had," Patterson retorted, piling a generous helping of glass noodles  onto a plate and falling back into the couch. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure to get everything you like." 

Tasha cocked an eyebrow as she shoveled a forkful of food into her mouth.  

"I just wanted to thank you for this past week," Patterson said simply. "For everything, really. I didn’t think I was gonna bounce back but I’m okay. Honest." 

Tasha nodded and chewed her food thoughtfully. She took a swallow of beer and settled into the couch cushions.  

"You’re sure? I mean, you left early again. I was a little worried Borden might have pushed you over the edge." 

Patterson shook her head.  

"No, I’m good," she insisted. "I swear. I just couldn’t be there and have Reade and Rich and Weller and everyone ask me if I was okay. It was too much. I knew Reade would call me in to check on me and then Rich would be over the top with his concern and I just couldn’t. Talking to you about it? Fine. Great. You’re my best friend. You’ve seen me at my worst with this and I don’t care if you see my cracks." 

Tasha smiled at this and lightly clinked the neck of her beer bottle against Patterson’s. She didn’t say anything but couldn’t help the huge grin that spread over her face. They’d had their share of falling outs, mainly over choices Tasha made while working with the CIA, but somehow they’d managed to repair the damage. It was great hearing that Patterson still considered her to be her best friend.  

Patterson set her container down on the coffee table and pushed it away from her. She turned slightly on the couch, drawing her legs up under her, and faced Tasha.  

"So, I, uh," she began and faltered. She tried again. "I wanna apologize for the other night. At the cottage." 

Tasha’s smile fell and she waved a disinterested hand in the air.  

"Don’t worry about it, chiquita," she said and took another bite of her food. She wasn’t interested in her food anymore but the act of picking up more food and chewing kept her busy and neutral. If anything, Tasha wanted to forget that Patterson had kissed her and that she’d shot her down. She was still convinced she’d done the right thing, but it made her ache just the same. Best friend was nice, but Tasha really hoped for more someday.  

"No, wait," Patterson said, putting a hand on Tasha’s wrist. "I don’t mean that I’m sorry it happened. I mean, I am sorry that I came on to you like that but I don’t regret you know..." 

"You know?" Tasha repeated, arching her eyebrow again. She’d stopped eating but still held her fork poised over her dish.  

The scientist took a deep breath and shifted on the couch again.  

"The kiss," she said. "I shouldn’t have done it but I don’t regret doing it." 

"You don’t?" 

"No." 

"Hmm." 

Patterson waited for Tasha to say something else but it was obvious the Latina was waiting for her to continue. She dropped her hands into her lap, making a loud slapping noise.  

"I just mean, I don’t regret kissing you because I think I’ve wanted to do it for a while," she said quickly. "But you were right. The timing sucked and I shouldn’t have done it." 

"Hmm," Tasha said again and gave a single nod as she considered the uneaten food on her plate. Finally, she set the dish down and pivoted around to face Patterson.  

She didn’t say anything and it started to unnerve Patterson. 

"Aren’t you gonna say something?" she asked exasperatedly. Her eyes searched Tasha’s face for some kind of sign that she might be ready to agree or even disagree with her. Something. The silence was too much. 

Tasha blew out a long slow breath.  

"You’re my best friend, too, you know that right?" she asked as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I mean, you’re so important to me. I don’t have a lot of people that I let into my life, but you... you’re different. You know me better than anyone else. I’ve never really let anyone know me but you broke all of those walls down. So, I think of you as my best friend." 

"Tash," Patterson began but fell silent when Tasha looked away. 

"I didn’t sleep a lot last night," Tasha admitted as she turned back to meet Patterson’s eyes. "At all, really. I got home, fell into bed, tossed and turned forever, and checked my phone a million times —" 

"I fell right asleep when I got home," Patterson said.  

Tasha managed a small smile.  

"That’s good. I’m glad," she said sincerely. "I was worried about you. I didn’t know if being back in the city would reverse whatever magic the cottage had over you. Part of it is because you’re my best friend —" 

"Tash—" 

"The other part," she continued, cutting Patterson off, "is that I’ve.... I …. I love you," she said simply and shrugged. "I’ve had a crush on you since Mayfair introduced us my first day at the NYO. But what I said at the cottage was true: you’re my best friend and I don’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability. I can’t do that to you. And I’m terrified that I would." 

Patterson shook her head and rolled her beer bottle between her palms. She furrowed her brow. 

"Why?" 

"Have you ever been in a relationship that ended well?" Tasha asked sharply. She grabbed her beer bottle and took a long swallow, nearly draining the bottle.  

"What?" 

"I don’t want to hurt you," Tasha repeated. "My relationship with Jess is the only relationship I've ever had that ended well. Ever. And it only ended well because we... had an arrangement." She wasn’t about to tell Patterson that she and her ex had been fuck buddies for a few years after their breakup. "But every other relationship I’ve been in has been bad. Really bad. I’m toxic. Broken and I don’t want to hurt you because I’m this poisonous thing." 

Patterson reached out and grabbed Tasha’s free hand. She squeezed it hard and shook her head.  

"Don’t say that, Tasha. You’re not poison. You’re not toxic." she said. "You can’t hurt me." 

"Patterson," Tasha said reproachfully. "Let’s not pretend I have a great track record of being a good friend to you. I can’t stand the thought of being someone else who might hurt you. But..."  

She saw a hopeful look flash across Patterson’s face and she gave a single shake of her head. Tasha couldn’t help the slight smile though and she looked back down at her hands.  

"But," she continued slowly, "I’d like to take you out some time. On a date. If you want to, of course. When you’re ready." 

A huge grin broke across Patterson’s face. It felt so large that it almost seemed comical.  

"Yes!" she yelled and then caught herself, realizing how loud her outburst had been. She lowered her voice and took a breath. "Yes. I’d love to go out with you sometime. On a date." 

Tasha returned Patterson’s smile but there was a slight edge of uncertainty there. She raised a single eyebrow.  

"I need to go slow," Tasha clarified. "It’s you. I don’t wanna fuck this up, and I don’t wanna rush you or push you into anything. I don’t wanna lose you. I don't need to be someone else you'll have to survive." 

Patterson nodded solemnly and tried to project an image of calmness even though her heart was racing.  

"I’m okay with slow," she assured her. "Slow is probably best." 

"Okay," Tasha said. She picked up her plate again and fiddled with her fork. She lifted some glass noodles to her mouth and chewed as if the conversation had never taken place. "Good. Okay." 

Patterson turned back to her own plate but didn’t move to pick it up. She set her empty bottle down and looked at Tasha from the corner of her eye. She chewed slightly on her lower lip and once again waited for Tasha to say something else. To ask her out officially or something. Instead Tasha continued to shovel forkfuls of Thai into her mouth. Patterson finally turned to look at her again. 

Tasha felt Patterson’s eyes on her and she stopped with her fork halfway between her mouth and plate.  

"What?" she asked around a mouthful of pad Thai.  

"So are you gonna ask me?" 

Tasha shook her head.  

"Ask you what?" 

"Are you kidding? Tasha!" Patterson exclaimed.  

"Oh," Tasha said and grinned as if this had all been some big joke. "So sometime would be soon? Dinner then? Tomorrow night? I’ll make reservations?" 

Patterson beamed and nodded.  

"Seven?" 

"Seven." 

"Okay." 

"Okay." 

Patterson went back to her plate and picked it up. She ate slowly and glanced at Tasha again. She wanted to say something else but didn’t know what to say. They were going to go out. On a date. Together. Her heart started to race again and she wiped a sweaty palm on her jeans. She snuck another glance at Tasha.  

Tasha felt the shift between them instantly, and she was very aware of Patterson’s glances. For a few minutes she tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed. Finally she set her fork down again and pushed her plate away. She drained her beer. 

"What?" she asked again. "You keep looking at me." 

Patterson jolted slightly and turned her head to look at Tasha. 

"No, I’m not." 

"You are. What?" 

Patterson shook her head.  

"Nothing," she said, fully prepared to say nothing, but she took a deep breath and kept talking after a moment anyway. "I don’t know. It just feels like something... we should I don’t know... something." 

"Hmm," Tasha replied. "Please don’t make me repeat that speech, Patterson. I meant it, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt you and I really, really need us to go slowly. Like turtle slow." 

Patterson reached out and took both of Tasha’s hands in her own. She ran her thumbs lovingly across the other woman’s knuckles and smiled softly at her.  

"You won’t hurt me, Tash," she said.  

"You don’t know what," Tasha said quietly. She sighed. "I can’t lose you. I don’t want to —" 

Patterson silenced Tasha’s objections with a kiss, her lips brushing softly against Tasha’s only briefly.  

"We’ll go slow," she assured her. "But you won’t hurt me. You’d never hurt me on purpose. I know that now. Slow." 

"Slow." Tasha agreed.  


End file.
